LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


FROM  THE  LIBRARY 
OF  F.  VON  BOSCH  AN 


TOUR  IN  GERMANY, 

AND  SOME  OF 

THE  SOUTHERN  PROVINCES 

OF    THE 

AUSTRIAN  EMPIRE, 

IN   THE   YEARS 

1820,  1821,  1822. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 
VOL.  I. 


EDINBURGH : 

PRINTED   FOR     ' 

ARCHIBALD  CONSTABLE  AND  CO.   EDINBURGH; 
AND  HURST,   ROBINSON,  AND  CO.  LONDON. 

1824. 


CONTENTS 


OF 


VOLUME  FIRST. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

THE  EAST  OP  FRANCE 1 

ALSACE 3 

Vineyards       4 

STRASBURGH 5 

French  and  German  Cookery     ....  6 

The  Cathedral 8 

The  Monument  of  Marshal  Saxe  ...  10 

The  Passage  of  the  Rhine    .....  15 

THE  PLAIN  OF  THE  RHINE    .......       17 

German  Stage  Coaches 19 

Grand  Ducal  Family  of  Baden      ...     22 
External  Character  of  the  Towns       .     .     24 

CARLSRUHE 25 

MANHEIM .  .26 


VI  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

HEIDELBERG 32 

DARMSTADT 35 

FRANKFORT 36 

The  Fair 37 

The  City 39 

The  Arts 42 

The  Jews 44 

The  Germanic  Confederation    ....  47 

SELIGENSTADT • 55 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  THURINGIAN  FOREST 60 

WEIMAR 6l 

The  Grand  Duke 65 

Literature 66 

Wieland 73 

Schiller 74 

Gothe 81 

The  Drama pi 

Character  of  the  People 95 

The  Grand  Duchess 97 

Amusements 105 

Political  Conduct  of  the  Grand  Duke        108 
Constitution   of   the   Parliament   of  the 

Grand  Duchy 110 

Its  Spirit  and  Proceedings      .     .     .     .     118 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

WEIMAR  (continued}  PAGE 

The  Press 122 

State  of  Political  Feeling  in  Weimar     .     126 
Influence  of  the  Small  German  States  .     128 

CHAPTER  III. 

GENERAL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  GERMAN  UNI- 
VERSITIES     132 

JENA 135 

The  Battle  of  Jena 136 

THE  UNIVERSITY — Its  Constitution     .     .     .     139 
Emoluments  of  the  Professors     .     .     .142 
Public  and  Private  Lectures   .     .     .     .     144 
Division  of  a  Subject  into  Different  Cour- 
ses       146 

Additional  Occupations  of  the  Juridical 

Faculty 149 

The  Mode  of  Teaching 153 

The  Students — Their  Evening  Carousals    .     156 

Their  Songs 160 

The  Landsmannschaften,  or  Secret  Asso- 
ciations        ,     .     .     .     .     164 

Duels .     180 

Behaviour  of  the  Students  to  the  Towns- 
men     183 

The  Burschenschaft 185 

Academical  Liberty 190 


Till  CONTENTS. 

THE  UNIVERSITY  (continued)  PAGE 

Academical  Jurisdiction  and  Discipline  194 

Bursaries 201 

Decline  of  Jena,  and  its  Causes    ....  206 

Dismissal  of  Professor  Oken  .     .     .     .  208 

Professor  Luden  and  Kotzebue  .     .     .  211 

CHAPTER  IV. 

RURAL  POPULATION  OF  WEIMAR     ....  218 

WEISSENFELS '  .     .  220 

Dr  Milliner 221 

LUTZEN .•••' 224 

LEIPZIG — the  City 225 

The  Arts 22p 

The  Book-Trade .     . 231 

Piratical  Publishers 235 

Mr  Brockhaus 239 

THE  ELBE 241 

DRESDEN — the  City 243 

The  Royal  Family 249 

The  Churches 254 

Music 25? 

The  Monument  of  Moreau       ....  260 

The  Saxon'  Switzerland 262 


CONTENTS.  IX 

CHAPTER  V. 

DRESDEN  (continued)  PAGE 

The  Picture  Gallery 270 

The  Collection  of  Copperplates  '.     .     .  290 

Sculpture 292 

The  Green  Vault 293 

The  Armoury 294 

Literature  and  the  Language     ...     .  296 

Administration  of  Criminal  Justice       .  300 

Constitution  of  the  Government       .     .  309 

CHAPTER  VI. 

ERFURTH 316 

Luther's  Cell 317 

Ursuline  Convent 320 

GOTHA 324- 

EISENACH 325 

Ruins  of  the  Wartburgh 326 

HESSE  CASSEL 328 

Westphalian  Peasantry 330 

CASSEL 333 

King  Jerome 335 

The  late  Elector 338 

Wilhelmshohe 342 

The  Arts 345 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

PACK 

GoTTINGEN 350 

Competition  among  the  Professors  .     .  352 

Professor  Blumenbach 355 

Scientific  Collections 359 

The  Library 36l 

The  Widows'  Fund 363 

Hospitals 366 

Prosperity  of  Gottingen 869 

Expenditure  of  the  Students  ....  3? 2 

General  Character  of  the  University     .  374 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

KiNonoM  OF  HANOVER 

Forest  Laws 380 

Wood-Thieves •     .     .  382 

The  Peasantry 383 

The  Magistracy  of  the  Small  Towns     .  385 

HANOVER 386 

The  Theatre 388 

Easter  Festivities 390 

Leibnitz 392 

The  Library 393 

Pictures • .     .  395 

National  Character 396 

The  Estates 401 

Relation  of  Hanover  to  England  .     .     .  408 


TOUR  IN  GERMANY,  &c. 


CHAPTER  I. 

STRASBURGH THE  PLAIN  OF  THE  RHINE 

FRANKFORT. 

— —  Im  niedersteigen  strahlen 

Soil  umher  der  Freudenschein, 
In  des  Neckars  Reben-thalen, 

Und  am  silberblauen  Main. 

THE  prejudices  of  English  travellers  in  favour 
of  their  own  country  are  now  proverbial,  and 
have  often  exposed  them  to  ridicule,  sometimes 
to  reproach.  But  if  even  the  gaieties  and  novel- 
ties of  Paris  fail  to  remove  this  feeling  of  nation- 
al superiority,  every  one  is  entitled  to  a  plenary- 
indulgence  for  railing,  who  has  made  a  long 
journey  in  winter  through  the  east  of  France. 
From  Paris  to  Strasburgh,  even  the  professed 
hunter  of  curiosities  would  find  little  to  reward 

VOL.    I.  A 


STRASBUKGH. 

his  pursuit ;  the  mere  passing  traveller,  who  is 
hastening  to  a  certain  point,  finds,  of  course,  no- 
thing at  all.  The  tame  banks  of  the  Marrie, 
which  the  road  accompanies  in  long,  stiff  stretch- 
es, as  far  as  Chalons,  give  no  relief  to  the  dreari- 
ness of  the  scene ;  the  fortifications  of  Metz  are  in- 
teresting only  to  the  engineer  ;  and  in  the  open 
country  the  difference  between  a  French  and  an 
English  landscape  is  felt  at  once.  The  want  of 
inclosures  is  a  hackneyed  topic  of  remark  and 
dispute ;  and,  though  nothing  is  more  impos- 
sible than  to  convince  a  Frenchman  that  he  or 
his  country  ever  has  blundered,  or  ever  can 
blunder,  we  may  be  allowed  to  prefer  our  own 
still  life,  and  to  believe  that  hedges,  and  copse- 
wood,  and  plantations,  are  comfortable  things 
even  in  winter.  But  it  is  in  the  appearance,  or 
rather  in  the  disappearance,  of  the  population,  that 
the  difference  is  most  striking.  In  a  well  culti- 
vated part  of  England,  even  the  winter  landscape 
is  not  entirely  desolate.  Everywhere  the  smoke 
of  the  farm-house  rises  ;  the  merry  inmates  are, 
at  least,  heard  from  within ;  at  every  turn  one 
comes  across  a  sportsman';  the  seats  of  the  gen- 
try are  more  blithe  and  bustling  than  ever  ;  to 


STRASBURGH. 

say  nothing  of  the  resolution  with  which  stage- 
coaches, and  stage-coach  travellers,  hold  out 
against  the  worst  that  winter  can  do.  All  around 
are  sounds  and  sights  of  human  industry  or  hu- 
man enjoyment.  In  France,  man  seems  to  be  as 
dead  as  nature.  The  traveller  looks  out  over  an 
endless,  dreary  extent  of  brown  soil,  seldom  vari- 
ed by  the  meanest  cottage-  The  country  popu- 
lation is  drawn  together  in  the  villages,  and  these 
villages  must  be  sought  for  to  discover  that  the 
country  is  inhabited.  It  would  seem  that  even 
the  peasant  cannot  endure  the  comparative  soli- 
tude of  an  English  farmer's  life.  Like  his  bre- 
thren of  Paris,  he  must  have  the  pleasures  of 
society. 

On  approaching  Alsace,  the  character  of  the 
country  rapidly  changes.  It  becomes  hilly,  pre- 
cipitous, romantic,  rising  into  a  branch  of  the 
lofty  ridge  which  flanks  the  left  bank  of  the 
Rhine,  nearly  from  the  frontiers  of  Switzerland 
to  the  mouth  of  the  Moselle.  The  luxuriant 
plain  of  the  Rhine,  with  its  numberless  towns 
and  villages,  is  occasionally  seen  below  through 
the  apertures  of  the  ridge.  The  river  itself  is 
too  deeply  sunk  to  be  visible.  As  if  this  "  Father 


4  STRASBURGH. 

of  wine,"  as  the  Germans  fondly  style  him, 
would  suffer  nothing  but  the  grape  in  his  vicini- 
ty, the  vineyards  reappear  so  soon  as  the  moun- 
tain begins  to  sink  down  in  more  gentle  slopes. 
On  this  side  of  the  Alps,  however,  a  bare  field 
is,  in  winter,  a  more  pleasing  object  than  a  vine- 
yard. The  vines  either  die,  or  are  intentionally 
cut  down,  nearly  to  the  ground.  If  the  poles 
which  supported  them  are  taken  away,  as  they 
generally  are,  the  vineyard  becomes  a  field  of 
bare,  black  stumps;  if  they  are  allowed  to  re- 
main, it  becomes  a  field  of  stiff,  straight  poles, 
marshalled  in  regular  array.  Even  in  summer 
and  autumn,  these  vineyards  add  less  to  the 
beauty  of  a  landscape  than  many  other  species 
of  verdure.  The  vines,  having  reached  in  their 
growth  the  top  of  the  stakes  along  which  they 
are  trained,  curl  downwards  ;  they  are  ranged  in 
parallel  lines ;  the  clusters  avoid  the  eye,  and 
lurk  beneath  the  leaves.  All  the  beauty  that 
such  a  vineyard  gives  to  the  scene  consists  mere- 
ly in  the  mantle  of  deep  verdure  with  which  it 
clothes  the  soft  and  sunny  slopes  of  the  hills,  a 
merit  not  at  all  of  rare  occurrence  even  in  coun- 
tries where  the  grape  never  ripened.  When 


STRASBURGH. 


near,  the  vineyard  is  in  itself  inferior  to  a  hop 
plantation,  which  is  the  very  same  thing  in  kind, 
with  more  body  and  stateliness  ;  in  the  distance, 
it  is  no  greater  ornament  than  a  field  of  prosper- 
ous turnips  would  be.  But  our  northern  imagi- 
nations, warming  at  the  idea  of  the  vine,  just  as 
our  blood  glows  with  its  juice,  bestow  on  every 
garden  of  Bacchus  the  beauties  of  Eden. 

Strasburgh  itself  is  an  irregular,  old-fashion- 
ed, heavy-looking  town,  most  inconveniently  in- 
tersected by  muddy  streams  and  canals,  and  full  of 
soldiers  and  customhouse-officers  ;  for  it  has  the 
double  misfortune  of  being  at  once  a  frontier 
trading  town,  and  an  important  frontier  fortifica- 
tion. The  appearance  of  the  inhabitants,  and 
the  mixture  of  tongues,  announce  at  once  that 
the  Rhine  was  not  always  the  boundary  of 
France.  Nearly  two  centuries  have  been  insuffi- 
cient to  eradicate  the  difference  of  descent,  and 
manners,  and  language.  The  situation  of  the 
town,  more  than  any  thing  else,  has  tended  to 
keep  these  peculiarities  alive,  and  prevent 
French  manners  from  establishing,  even  in  a 
French  city,  that  intolerant  despotism  which 
they  have  often  introduced  into  foreign  capitals. 


6  STRASBURGH. 

As  it  is  the  centre  of  the  mercantile  intercourse 
which  France  maintains  with  Swabia,  Wirtem- 
berg  great  part  of  Baden,  and  the  north  of 
Switzerland,  the  German  part  of  the  population 
has  always  among  them  too  many  of  their  kind- 
red to  forget  that  they  themselves  were  once  sub- 
jects of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  or  give  up 
their  own  modes  of  speaking,  and  dressing,  and 
eating.  The  stolid  Swabian  and  serious  Swiss 
drover  are  deaf  to  the  charms  of  the  universal 
language  and  kitchen.  At  Strasburgh  you  may 
dine  on  dishes  as  impenetrably  disguised,  or  lan- 
guish over  entremets  as  nearly  refined  away  to 
nothing,  as  at  the  tables  of  the  great  Parisian  ri- 
vals, Very  and  Vefours ;  or,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  street,  for  half  the  money,  you  may  have 
more  German  fat,  plain  boiled  beef,  and  sour 
cabbage.  The  German  kitchen  is  essentially  a 
plain,  solid,  greasy  kitchen  ;  it  has  often  by  far 
too  much  of  the  last  quality.  People  of  rank, 
indeed,  in  the  great  capitals,  are  just  as  mad  on 
French  cookery  as  the  most  delicate  of  their 
equals  in  London ;  but  the  national  cookery,  in 
its  general  character,  is  the  very  reverse  of  that 
of  France,  and  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  the 


STRASBURGH.  7 

national  cookery  of  a  people  may  not  have  some 
connection  with  its  national  character.  The 
German  justly  prides  himself  on  the  total  ab- 
sence of  parade,  on  the  openness,  plainness,  and 
sincerity  which  mark  his  character ;  accordingly, 
he  boils  his  beef,  and  roasts  his  mutton  and  fowls, 
just  as  they  come  from  the  hands  of  the  butcher 
and  the  poulterer.  If  a  gourmand  of  Vienna  stuff 
his  Styrian  capon  with  truffles,  this  is  an  unwont- 
ed tribute  to  delicacy  of  palate.  French  cook- 
ery, again,  really  seems  to  be  merely  a  product 
of  the  vanity  and  parade  which  are  inseparable 
from  the  French  character.  The  culinary  ac- 
complishments are  to  his  dinner  just  what  senti- 
ment is  to  his  conversation.  They  are  both  sub- 
stitutes for  the  solid  beef  and  solid  feeling  which 
either  are  not  there  at  all,  or,  if  they  be  there, 
are  intended  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  give  a 
name.  No  one  portion  of  God's  creatures  is 
reckoned  fit  for  a  Frenchman's  dinner  till  he  him- 
self has  improved  it  beyond  all  possibility  of  re- 
cognition. His  cookery  seems  to  proceed  on  the 
very  same  principle  on  which  his  countrymen 
laboured  to  improve  Raphael's  pictures,  viz.  that 


5  STKASBUKGH. 

there  is  nothing  in  nature  or  art  so  good,  but  he 
can  make  it  better. 

The  far-famed  cathedral  is,  in  some  respects, 
the  finest  Gothic  building  in  Europe.  There 
are  many  which  are  more  ample  in  dimensions. 
In  the  solemn  imposing  grandeur  to  which  the 
lofty  elevations  and  dim  colonnades  of  this  archi- 
tecture are  so  well  adapted,  the  cathedral  of  Mi- 
lan acknowledges  no  rival ;  and  not  only  in  some 
other  German  towns,  as  in  Niirnberg,  but  like- 
wise among  the  Gothic  remains  of  our  own  coun- 
try and  of  Normandy,  it  would  not  be  difficult 
to  find  samples  of  workmanship  equally  light 
and  elegant  in  the  detail  with  the  boasted  fane 
of  Strasburgh.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  no- 
thing can  surpass  it.  The  main  body  of  the 
building  is  put  together  with  an  admirable  sym- 
metry of  proportion,  precisely  the  merit  of  least 
frequent  occurrence  in  Gothic  architecture.  To 
this  it  is  indebted  for  its  principal  beauty  as  a 
whole.  Connoisseurs,  indeed,  have  measured  and 
criticised,  have  found  this  too  long,  and  that  too 
short :  but  architectural  beauty  is  made  for  the 
eye,  and  even  in  classical  architecture,  where  all 
has  been  reduced  to  measurement,  the  rules  of 


ST11ASBURGH. 


Vitruvius  or  Palladio  themselves  are  good  only 
as  expressing  in  the  language  of  art  judgments 
which  taste  forms  independent  of  rules.  The 
harmony  of  proportions,  and  elegance  of  the 
workmanship,  appear  to  still  greater  advantage 
in  the  spire,  whose  pinnacle  is  more  than  five 
hundred  feet  above  the  pavement,  and  whose 
mere  elevation  forms,  in  the  eyes  of  most  people, 
the  only  good  thing  about  the  cathedral.  It 
has  nothing  uncommon  in  its  general  form.  The 
massive  base  terminates  just  at  the  point  where, 
to  the  eye,  it  would  become  too  heavy  for  the 
elevation ;  and  is  succeeded  by  the  lofty  slender 
pyramid,  so  delicately  ribbed  that  it  hardly  seems 
to  be  supported,  and  bearing,  almost  to  its  pin- 
nacle, the  profusion  of  Gothic  ornament.  Yet  there 
is  no  superfluity  or  confusion  of  ornament  about 
the  edifice ;  there  is  no  crowding  of  figure  upon 
figure,  merely  for  the  sake  of  having  sculpture. 
With  more,  it  would  have  approached  the  taw- 
dry and  puerile  style  of  the  present  day  ;  with 
less,  it  would  have  been  as  dead  and  heavy  as 
the  cathedral  of  Ulm,  which,  though  exquisite 
in  particular  details  of  the  sculpture,  yet,  with- 
out being  more  imposing,  wants  all  the  grace 
A  2 


10  STRASBURGH. 

and  elegance  of  the  fabric  of  Strasburgh.  Few 
things  in  art  seem  so  unwilling  to  submit  them- 
selves to  good  taste  as  the  ornaments  of  Gothic 
architecture.  How  many  imagine  that  they 
constitute  the  essential  part  of  it ;  that  they  are 
handsome  things  in  themselves,  which,  in  an  hun- 
dred instances,  they  are  not,  and,  therefore,  the 
more  of  a  good  thing  the  better  ;  without  re- 
garding any  ulterior  object,  or  suspecting  that 
they  have,  or  ought  to  have,  some  determinate 
relation  to  plan  and  proportion.  In  every  town 
we  ourselves  have  things  which  we  facetiously 
denominate  Gothic  chapels,  because  they  are 
covered  with  little  pinnacles,  and  small  curves, 
and  are  full  of  holes.  The  Gothic  in  small  is 
fit  only  for  the  pastry  cook,  or  the  toy-shop. 

In  the  church  of  St  Thomas,  still  devoted  to 
the  Protestant  worship,  is  the  monument  erect- 
ed by  Louis  XV.  to  Marshal  Saxe.  It  is 
the  most  celebrated  production  of  Pigalle,  and 
is  a  very  fair  specimen  of  the  style  of  the 
French  artists  of  the  last  century,  in  which 
Koubilliac  has  left  us  so  many  works  marked 
with  all  its  beauties  and  all  its  defects.  The 
back-ground  of  the  whole  is  a  tall  and  broad 

11 


STRASBURGH.  11 

pyramid  of  grey  marble,  set  against  the  wall  of 
the  church.  The  pyramid  terminates  below  in 
a  few  steps,  on  the  lowest  of  which  rests  a  sar- 
cophagus. The  Marshal  is  in  the  act  of  descend- 
ing the  steps  towards  the  tomb.  On  the  right,  the 
symbolical  animals  of  England,  Holland,  and 
Austria,  are  flying  from  him  in  dismay ;  on  the 
left,  the  banner  of  France  is  floating  in  triumph. 
The  warrior's  eye  is  fixed  with  an  expression  of 
tranquil  contempt  on  a  figure  of  Death  who 
stands  below,  thrusting  out  his  raw  head  and 
bony  arms  from  beneath  a  shroud,  holding  up 
to  the  Marshal  in  one  hand  an  hour-glass  in 
which  the  sand  has  run  out,  and  with  the  other 
opening  the  sarcophagus  to  receive  him.  A 
female  figure,  representing  France,  throws  her- 
self between  them,  exerting  herself  at  once  to 
hold  back  the  Marshal,  and  push  away  Death. 
On  one  side  of  the  whole,  a  genius,  according  to 
the  most  approved  recipe  for  monument  making, 
weeps  over  the  inverted  torch,  and,  on  the  other, 
Hercules  leans  pouting  on  his  club.  All  is  in 
marble,  and  large  as  the  life.  The  individual 
figures  are  of'  moderate  merit ;  they  are  full  of 
that  exaggeration  of  feature  and  attitude  of 


STRASBURGH. 

which  the  French  artists  have  never  yet  got  rid ; 
but  the  first  impression  of  the  whole  composition 
is  extremely  striking,  though  the  style  is  not 
sufficiently  pure  to  make  the  impression  lasting. 
It  dazzles  at  first,  and  immediately  fatigues. 

The  figure  of  the  Marshal  himself  has  often 
been  adduced  as  an  example,  to  prove  that 
sculpture  can  deal  no  less  advantageously  with 
the  tight  fantastic  garments  of  modern  times 
than  with  the  loose  drapery  of  antiquity  ;  but 
one  cannot  look  at  Marshal  Saxe  as  he  stands 
here,  without  wishing  that  the paludamenturn  oc- 
cupied the  place  of  the  coat  and  waistcoat. 
There  may  be  much  industry  and  much  skill  of 
manipulation  in  hewing  out  accurately  buttons 
And  button-holes,  and  laces,  and  ruffles;  but  this  is 
a  merit  of  which  no  statuary,  who  knows  the  true 
province  and  feels  the  true  dignity  of  his  art, 
will  boast ;  for  it  lies  in  a  species  of  imitation 
which  requires  manual  dexterity  rather  than  ge- 
nius, and  has  more  in  common  with  the  carving 
of  Dutch  toys  than  with  the  divine  art,  whose 
proudest  triumphs  are  achieved  in  creating  hu- 
man forms.  Measured  by  such  a  standard,  old 
General  Ziethen,  who,  with  other  heroes  of  the 


STRASBURGH.  13 

Seven  Years1  War,  frowns  on  the  Wilhelms-Platss 
of  Berlin  in  a  hussar  uniform  wrought  out  in  the 
most  laborious  and  precise  detail,  would  be,  what 
many  a  Prussian  holds  it  to  be,  the  finest  statue 
in  the  world.  It  is  the  business  of  sculpture  to 
represent  the  human  form,  and  every  mode  of 
dress,  whether  ancient  or  modern,  is  an  obstacle 
in  her  way.  But  custom  and  propriety,  which 
frequently  compelled  the  ancient  artists  to  adopt 
a  covering,  are  still  more  tyrannical  towards 
their  modern  followers-  A  naked  Cicero  would 
have  been  as  little  proper  as  a  corsetted  Venus, 
and  a  naked  statesman  or  field-marshal  of  our 
own  age  would  be  more  incongruous  than  either. 
Where  dress,  then,  is  unavoidable,  the  question 
seems  just  to  be,  what  mode  of  attire  trenches 
least  on  the  peculiar  province  of  the  sculptor, 
and  is  most  susceptible  in  itself  of  being  worked 
into  graceful  forms  ?  Now  the  free  and  flow- 
ing dress  of  Athens  or  Rome  was  not  only  more 
graceful  and  noble  in  itself  than  the  sharp  an- 
gles, the  stiff  lines,  the  numerous  joinings  of  our 
multifarious  habiliments,  but,  in  the  hands  of  the 
sculptor,  it  was  pliant  as  wax,  to  be  moulded 
into  any  form  which  beauty  or  dignity  might  re- 


14  STRASBUEGH. 

quire.  But  the  artist  who  is  to  clothe  a  statue 
in  a  modern  dress,  has  to  work  on  much  less 
manageable  materials.  His  audacious  hand 
must  attempt  no  innovation  on  the  received 
forms  of  buckram  and  broad  cloth.  In  the  dra- 
pery of  his  statue,  if  such  an  abuse  of  words 
may  be  tolerated,  he  must  turn  taste  and  genius 
out  of  doors,  and  work  according  to  the  mea- 
sures of  some  tailor  of  reputation.* 

*  In  few  modern  statues  has  the  difficulty  been  so  suc- 
cessfully surmounted  as  in  Chantry's  beautiful  statue  of 
the  late  Mr  Homer.  By  avoiding  everything  like  exag- 
geration of  the  particular  parts,  and  softening  them  down 
to  a  degree  which  an  artist  of  less  taste  would  not  have 
aimed  at,  he  has  identified,  as  far  as  might  be,  the  dress 
with  the  form.  The  gown  conceals  the  least  poetical  pe- 
culiarities, and  is  itself  disposed  in  an  arrangement  ex- 
tremely simple  and  becoming.  He  has  dispensed  with  the 
wig  of  a  Chancery  barrister,  and  who,  that  is  not  a  disciple 
of  Roubilliac,  will  not  rejoice  that  he  has  done  so  ?  The 
French  artist  executed  the  statue  of  President  Forbes,  in 
the  hall  of  the  Second  Division  of  the  Court  of  Session  at 
Edinburgh,  and  bestowed  on  him  the  utmost  plenitude  of 
judicial  curls  and  tippets.  Chantry  executed  that  of  Pre- 
sident Blair,  which  adorns  the  hall  of  the  First  Division, 
clothed  him  in  a  more  simple  drapery,  and  left  the  lofty, 


THE  RHINE.  15 

Beyond  the  fortifications,  there  is  still  about  a 
mile  to  the  bank  of  the  Rhine.  The  wooden 
bridge  thrown  across  the  river,  though  less  in- 
geniously combined  than  the  destroyed  one  of 
Constance,  used  to  be  reckoned  the  most  stately 
structure  of  the  kind  in  Europe.  It  is  now  use- 
less. In  the  campaigns  which  conducted  the  al- 
lies to  Paris,  great  part  of  the  bridge  towards 
the  German  side  was  cut  away,  and  has  not  yet 
been  repaired.  The  communication  is  kept  up 
by  a  bridge  floated  on  boats,  a  little  farther 
down  the  stream.  This  is  reckoned  altogether 
a  more  commodious  structure.  When  the  ice 
breaks  up,  part  of  the  boats  are  cut  away  to 
give  it  free  passage ;  and  though  the  communica- 
tion be  thus  partially  interrupted  for  a  day  or 
two,  yet,  when  the  ice  has  once  passed,  in  half 
an  hour  the  bridge  is  again  formed.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  floating  ice,  which  descends  on 
this  majestic  river  in  huge  masses  and  with  ter- 
rific impetuosity,  should  carry  away  the  wood- 
open  brow  unencumbered  by  the  official  mass  of  hair. 
To  look  at  these  two  statues  is  sufficient  of  itself  to  deter- 
mine the  comparative  merits  of  these  different  styles. 


16  THE   RHINE. 

en  piers  of  a  bridge  like  the  old  one,  the  inter- 
ruption continues  much  longer,  for  the  repairs 
are  at  once  more  tedious  and  expensive.  It  is 
for  the  same  reason,  as  much  as  from  the  depth 
of  the  channel  or  the  convenience  of  navigation, 
that  all  the  bridges  below  this  point,  at  Man- 
heim,  Mayence,  Coblentz,  and  Cologne,  are  con- 
structed on  the  same  principle.  The  ice  had 
broken  up  two  days  before,  and  was  still  hurry- 
ing downwards  incessantly  ;  the  bridge  was  cut 
away  in  the  centre,  and  the  passage  was  made  in 
an  ordinary  boat,  kept  up  against  the  current  by 
running  along  a  rope  stretched  across  the  open- 
ing in  the  bridge.  A  French  customhouse 
guards  the  approach  on  the  French  side,  but  the 
search  is  brief  and  slight,  for  nobody  minds 
what  you  carry  out  of  the  country.  The  play- 
ful quarrel  about  examining  the  baskets  of  a 
number  of  peasant  girls  returning  from  market 
in  Strasburgh,  seemed  to  be  pertinaciously  kept 
up  by  the  officers,  much  more  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  ravishing  illicit  kisses  than  from  any 
wish  to  detect  illicit  commodities.  "  Father 
Rhine"  was  passed  safely  and  speedily.  There 
comes  a  new  country,  new  forms,  new  manners, 


KEHL.  IT 

a  new  language  ;  but,  amid  all  that  is  new,  the 
old  pest  of  police  and  customhouse-officers. 
You  have  just  slipped  from  the  hands  of  French 
Douaniers,  and  are  caught  in  the  fangs  of  Ger- 
man Mauthbeamten. 

Kehl,  the  first  village  on  the  German  side, 
wears  an  open  and  regular  appearance,  which 
seldom  recurs  farther  in  the  interior  of  the  coun- 
try. Being  a  point  of  military  importance  from 
its  situation  in  regard  to  Strasburgh,  it  had  the 
fortune  to  be  burned  down,  more  than  once,  dur- 
ing the  war,  and  has  been  rebuilt  on  a  better 
plan.  At  first,  long  tracts  of  willow  grounds, 
and  occasional  sandy  flats,  stretching  on  both 
sides  of  the  river,  mark  the  extent  of  its  inunda- 
tions ;  but,  less  than  a  couple  of  miles  from  the 
bank,  the  country  is  already  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  in  Europe.  It  is  the  opening  of  the 
plain  of  the  Rhine,  the  Campagna  d'oro  of  Ger- 
many— every  foot  of  which  teems  with  popula- 
tion, and  industry,  and  fertility,  and,  during 
two  hundred  years,  has  been  fattened  with  the 
best  blood  of  Europe.  The  Rhine  is  its  uniform 
boundary  on  the  west.  On  the  east  it  is  inclos- 
ed in  the  distance  by  irregular  eminences,  whose 


18  PLAIN  OF 

surface  is  the  favourite  abode  of  the  grape,  while 
their  interior  sends  forth  the  mineral  springs, 
which  collect  to  Baden  and  Hueb  all  the  fashion 
and  disease  of  this  part  of  Germany.     Behind 
them  tower  the  prouder  and  shaggy  summits  of 
the  Hercynian  or  Black  Forest.     It  has  long 
since  lost  its  extent  of  sixty  days  journey,  as 
well  as  its  Elks  and  Urochses.    What  remains  is 
still  gloomy  with  primeval  oaks  and  pines  ;  but 
from  their  shades  have  been  expelled  even  the 
banditti,  who,  by  the  received  laws  of  romance, 
are  as  regularly  the  inhabitants  of  a  German  fo- 
rest as  the  dagger  or  the  drug  are  the  weapons 
of  the  Italian.     Between  these  boundaries  the 
plain  runs  along  to  the  north,  varying  in  breadth 
according  as  the  hills  press  closer  upon  or  retire 
farther  from  the  river.      The  great  road  from 
Switzerland  avoids  the  plain,  running  along  the 
eminences  which  border  it   to  the  right.     The 
champaign  country,  rivalling  the  plain  of  Tusca- 
ny, as  seen  from  Fiesole,  or  that  portion  of  Lom- 
bardy  which  stretches  out  beneath  the  Madon- 
na di  San  Luca  at  Bologna,  lies  below,  and  the 
eye  never  tires.  The  general  character  of  the  ob- 
jects, indeed,  does  not  vary;  it,  is  a  perpetual 


THE  RHINE.  19 

succession  of  villages  and  small  towns,  lurking 
among  vineyards,  and  corn-fields,  and  orchards; 
but,  at  every  turn,  they  combine  themselves  in- 
to new  groupes,  or  lie  under  new  lights.  Here 
a  long  stretch  of  the  broad  and  glittering  Rhine 
bursts  into  view,  bounding  the  distant  landscape 
like  a  silver  girdle ;  there  his  place  is  occupied 
by  the  remoter  summits  of  the  Vosges.  Here 
you  may  linger  among  the  cottages  of  Offenthal, 
whose  vine  still  retains  its  character,  and  hangs 
its  clusters  round  the  window  of  the  peasant ;  or 
close  by  that  little  churchyard  you  may  muse 
beneath  the  tree  where  Turenne  fell  on  the  last 
of  his  fields,  and  make  a  brief  pilgrimage  to  the 
rustic  chapel  beneath  whose  altar  the  heart  of 
the  hero  was  deposited. 

What  the  Germans  call  a  Diligence,  or  Post* 
wagen,  dragging  its  slow  length  through  this 
delicious  scene,  is  a  bad  feature  in  the  picture. 
Much  as  we  laugh  at  the  meagre  cattle,  the 
knotted  rope-harness,  and  lumbering  pace  of  the 
machines  which  bear  the  same  name  in  France, 
the  French  have  outstripped  their  less  alert 
neighbours  in  everything  that  regards  neatness, 
and  comfort,  and  expedition.  The  German  car- 


20  PLAIN  O? 

riage  resembles  the  French  one,  but  is  still  more 
clumsy  and  unwieldy.  The  luggage,  which  ge- 
nerally constitutes  by  far  the  greater  part  of  the 
burden,  (for  your  Diligence  is  a  servant  of  all 
work,  and  takes  a  trunk  just  as  cheerfully  as  a 
passenger,)  is  placed,  not  above,  but  in  the  rear. 
Behind  the  carriage  a  flooring ,  projects  from 
above  the  axle  of  the  hind  wheels,  equal,  in 
length  and  breadth,  to  all  the  rest  of  the  vehicle. 
On  this  is  built  up  a  castle  of  boxes  and  packag- 
es, that  generally  shoots  out  beyond  the  wheels, 
and  towers  far  above  the  roof  of  the  carriage. 
The  whole  weight  is  increased  as  much  as  pos- 
sible by  the  strong  chains  intended  to  secure  the 
fortification  from  all  attacks  in  the  rear ;  for  the 
guard,  like  his  French  brother,  will  expose  him- 
self neither  to  wind  nor  weather,  but  forthwith 
retires  to  doze  in  his  cabriolet,  leaving  to  its  fate 
the  edifice  which  has  been  reared  with  much 
labour  and  marvellous  skill.  Six  passengers, 
if  so  many  bold  men  can  be  found,  are  packed 
up  inside ;  two,  more  happy  or  less  daring,  take 
their  place  in  the  cabriolet  with  the  guard.  The 
breath  of  life  is  insipid  to  a  German  without  the 


THE  RHINE.  21 

breath  of  his  pipe  ;  the  insides  puff  most  genial- 
ly right  into  each  other's  faces.  With  such  an 
addition  to  the  ordinary  mail-coach  miseries  of  a 
low  roof,  a  perpendicular  back,  legs  suffering 
like  a  martyr's  in  the  boots,  and  scandal- 
ously scanty  air-holes,  the  Diligence  becomes  a 
very  Black  Hole.  True,  the  police  has  directed 
its  denunciations  against  smoking,  and  Meinherr 
the  conducteur  (he  has  no  native  appellation) 
is  specially  charged  with  their  execution ;  but 
Meinherr  the  conducteur,  from  the  crav- 
ings of  his  own  appetite,  has  a  direct  inte- 
rest in  allowing  them  to  sleep,  and  is  often 
the  very  first  man  to  propose  putting  them  to 
rest.  To  this  huge  mass,  this  combination 
of  stage-coach  and  carrier's  cart,  are  yoked 
four  meagre,  ragged  cattle,  and  the  whole  dash- 
es along,  on  the  finest  roads,  at  the  rate  of  rather 
more  than  three  English  miles  an  hour,  stoppages 
included.  The  matter  of  refreshments  is  con- 
ducted with  a  very  philanthropical  degree  of 
leisure,  and  at  every  considerable  town,  a  breach 
must  be  made  in  the  luggage  castle,  and  be 
built  up  again.  Half  a  day's  travelling  in  one 


22  BADEN". 

> 

of  these  vehicles  is  enough  to  make  a  man  loathe 
them  all  his  lifetime.* 

It  can  only  be  ascribed  to  the  amazing  fertili- 
ty of  this  country  that  its  population  seem  to 
have  recovered  so  rapidly  from  the  devastation 
with  which  the  war  visited  them  again  and  again. 
From  Basle  to  Frankfort  there  is  scarcely  a  field 
that  has  not  been  trodden  down  by  contending 
armies.  They  are  not  wealthy,  and  would  be 
found  wanting  if  their  practice  in  domestic  com- 
forts were  weighed  against  our  own  ideas  ;  but 
they  exhibit,  in  full  measure,  the  more  indispen- 
sable possessions  of  industry  and  hilarity,  a  sim- 
ple and  most  affectionate  disposition.  The  family 
of  Baden  has  long  filled  a  respectable  rank  among 

*  In  the  Rhenish  provinces  of  Prussia,  the  establish- 
ment of  the  new  French  mails  has  created  some  rivalry, 
or  the  government  has  been  brought  to  bestir  itself  to  faci- 
litate the  means  of  communication  in  that  commercial  dis- 
trict of  the  kingdom.  On  the  great  road  between  Frank- 
fort  and  Cologne,  a  species  of  mail  has  been  established, 
which  they  have  dignified  with  the  name  of  Schnellwa- 
gen,  or  Velocity  Coach,  because,  by  throwing  off  the  car- 
rier's cart,  it  makes  out  between  five  and  six  miles  an 
hour. 


BADEN.  28 

the  minor  princes  of  Germany,  as  ruling  with  eco- 
nomy and  kindness.  It  went  by  the  side  of  that  of 
Weimar  in  supporting  the  young  genius  of  the 
country  against  the  preposterous  domination  of 
French  literature,  and  did  not  blush  to  call 
Klopstock  to  Carlsruhe  as  the  ornament  of  its 
court.  The  present  Grand  Duke  was  among  the 
first  of  the  German  princes  to  give  his  peo- 
ple a  representative  government,  when  the  termi- 
nation of  the  war  left  him  and  them  their  own 
masters.  On  such  a  soil,  and  with  a  people  so 
industrious  and  easily  contented,  a  good  govern- 
ment, well  administered,  should  produce  a  rural 
population  that  would  have  no  reason  to  envy 
any  corner  of  Europe. 

The  Grand  Duke  is  a  popular  prince,  particu- 
larly in  the  hereditary  dominions  of  his  house. 
It  is  in  the  Swabian  part  of  his  territories  that 
he  has  found  it  most  difficult  to  conciliate  favour; 
not  that  he  was  undeserving  of  it,  but  because  the 
Swabians  could  not  easily  throw  off  their  heredita- 
ry attachment  to  the  house  of  Hapsburgh.  These 
hardy  fatteners  of  snails  and  distillers  of  cherry 
water,  a  tribe,  however,  of  whose  intelligence 
their  countrymen  entertain  so  low  an  opinion, 


24  BADEN. 

that,  all  over  Germany,  a  piece  of  gross  stupidi- 
ty is  proverbially  termed  a  Schwabenstreich, 
longed  to  return  beneath  the  wing  of  the  double 
eagle.  During  the  first  advance  of  the  allies, 
when  the  Emperor  and  the  Grand  Duke  were 
together  at  Freyberg,  the  former  was  actually 
receiving,  in  one  room,  an  address  from  the 
Swabians,  praying  him  to  take  them  back  under 
the  imperial  sceptre,  while  the  latter,  his  host 
and  their  Sovereign,  was  under  the  same  roof. 
The  Emperor  wept  with  them  over  old  stories 
and  old  attachments,  for  there  is  not  a  more  kind- 
hearted  man  in  his  empire  ;  but  other  views  of 
policy  were  imperious,  and  they  remained  with 
their  new  master.  This  disposition,  in  fact,  is 
said  to  have  been  part  of  the  secret  history  of 
the  constitution  of  Baden ;  the  Government  resol- 
ved to  bestow  the  boon  to  turn  the  popular  opi- 
nion in  its  favour. 

Except  some  of  the  small  capitals,  which  are 
light  and  open,  the  general  character  of  the 
towns  strewed  round  in  all  directions  does 
not  correspond  with  the  beauty  of  the  country. 
They  are  irregular,  inconvenient,  and  gloomy. 
The  inhabitants  are  content  to  creep  through 


CARLSRtJHE,  25 

dark,  narrow  streets  during  the  day,  if  one  spot 
be  left  open  and  planted  with  trees  for  their 
evening  promenade.  Carlsruhe,  the  capital  of 
the  Grand  Duchy,  besides  being  enlivened  by  the 
bustle  and  parade  which  the  residence  of  a  court 
in  a  small  town  always  occasions,  has  a  peculiar- 
ly rural  appearance:  it  strikes  one  just  as  a 
large  and  very  handsome  country  village. 
There  has  not  been  much  taste  shown  in  the 
poplar  groves  which  surround  it,  and  border, 
in  long  tedious  lines,  the  roads  that  approach  it. 
The  poplar  is  not  a  tree  to  be  planted  in  mas- 
ses ;  even  as  forming  an  alley,  it  has  no  breadth 
of  foliage,  or  depth  of  shade,  to  atone  for  its  stiff, 
pyramidal,  unvarying  form.  Carlsruhe  is  bu- 
ried among  them,  and  they  sink  into  utter  in- 
significance when  the  eye,  through  the  artificial 
openings,  catches  the  masses  of  the  Black  Fo- 
rest in  the  back-ground. 

Without  the  presence  of  the  court  Carlsruhe 
would  not  exist.  Its  population  has  been  creat- 
ed, and  is  supported  only  by  the  wants  of  the 
court,  and  the  rank  and  wealth  that  always  fol- 
low a  court  on  business  or  pleasure.  Gay  and 
idle  people  form  so  large  a  proportion  of  the 

VOL.    I.  B 


^b  MAKHEIM. 

small  whole,  that  poverty  and  misery  do  not 
easily  come  under  the  eye  of  the  stranger.  The 
first  sight  of  Carlsruhe  tells  him  it  is  a  place  of 
amusement  and  elegant  enjoyment  rather  than 
of  business  ;  he  feels  himself  everywhere  merely 
within  the  precincts  of  a  palace ;  nor,  unless  he 
penetrate  into  the  debates  of  the  chambers,  will 
he  soon  discover  that  the  more  serious  occupa- 
tions of  life  are  much  attended  to. 

Beyond  Carlsruhe  the  plain,  for  some  miles, 
becomes  broader ;  but,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Heidelberg,  a  mountainous  ridge,  through  whose 
vallies  the  Neckar  finds  its  way,  presses  forward 
to  the  Rhine.  Heidelberg  rests  on  the  last 
slope,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  ridge  ;  corn  and 
wine  crowd  upon  each  other  along  the  Neckar, 
during  all  that  remains  of  its  course,  to  the  walls 
of  Manheim.  Manheim  itself  is  the  most  ma- 
thematically regular  town  in  Europe,  a  mere 
collection  of  straight  lines  and  parallelograms, 
every  street  and  every  mass  of  building  like 
every  other.  It  was  not  difficult  to  attain  this 
uniformity  in  a  town  of  twenty-five  thousand  in- 
habitants, but,  besides  being  monotonous,  it  pro- 
duces confusion.  One  encounters  more  difficul- 
10 


MAKHEIM.  27 

ty  in  finding  his  way  through  the  streets  of  Man- 
heim  than  in  much  larger  towns,  which  have  not 
bowed  the  knee  in  such  absolute  subjection  to  a 
ground  plan,  and  in  which,  though  the  whole 
be  irregular,  the  parts  are  noticed  and  remem- 
bered for  their  own  peculiarities.  The  Cicerones 
boast  of  one  or  two  churches,  which  are  very 
gaudy,  and  the  palace,  which  is  very  large  and 
heavy  ;  but  the  great  charms  of  Manheim  are 
due  to  nature.  On  the  north  it  is  skirted  by 
the  blue  waters  of  the  Neckar,  which  at  Heidel- 
berg has  quitted  for  ever  its  mountain  gorge, 
and  here  pours  itself,  placid  and  slow,  into  the 
bosom  of  the  Rhine.  The  Rhine  itself  rolls  its 
ample  stream  on  the  west,  washing  the  walls  ; 
the  plain  beyond  runs  back  from  the  left  bank, 
disappearing  at  length  in  the  shadow  of  the  fo- 
rests and  precipices  of  the  Vosges.  Except  in 
the  Rhelng-au  itself,  there  are  few  spots  on 
the  Rhine  where  this  imperial  river  makes  so 
splendid  an  appearance — the  expanse  of  water, 
spread  out  like  a  mighty  lake,  its  slow  ma- 
jestic motion,  its  tinge  of  green,  not  deep 
enough  to  prevent  the  vivid  reflection  of  the  ram- 
parts and  towers  that  bristle  on  the  one  bank, 


28  MANHEIM 

and  the  cottages,  and  orchards,  and  vineyards, 
that  stud  the  other.  It  is  not  wonderful  that 
the  coolness  which  lingers  round  his  waters, 
even  in  the  greatest  heats  of  summer,  should 
draw  gay  processions  of  strollers  to  the  ramparts 
and  bridge  to  enjoy  the  magnificent  spectacle, 
or  that  they  should  proudly  challenge  Europe 
to  equal  their  native  stream.  If  Virgil  had 
still  to  write,  the  Po  would  no  longer  be  the 
"  Rex  fluviorum,"  even  in  Europe,  for  in  every- 
thing but  sky  and  classical  association  the  Rhine 
is  its  superior.  The  artificial  embankments  of 
the  Po,  singular  though  they  be  as  works  of  la- 
bour and  skill,  deform  his  beauty,  and  the  sand 
with  which  he  threatened  to  encroach  on  the  Ad- 
riatic discolours  his  own  waters.  The  Rhine 
that  Virgil  knew  washed  no  vineyards,  and  re- 
flected no  temples :  he  had  heard  of  it  only  as 
a  savage  and  unadorned  stream,  rolling  itself 
through  interminable  woods,  and  guarding  the 
haunts  of  barbarians  who  had  checked  the 
flight  of  the  Roman  eagle. 

The  delights  of  the  situation,  and  the  plea- 
sures of  the  society,  attract  a  number  of  resident 
strangers ;  for  here,  too,  as  being  the  residence  of 


MANHEIM.  29 

the  Markgravine  Dowager,  there  is  something 
of  the  parade  and  elegance  of  a  court.  Many 
of  the  sojourners  are  persons  of  literary  habits, 
and  the  coteries  of  Manheim  have  gradually 
been  acquiring  a  character  for  information  and 
bon  ton.  There  is  a  considerable  number  of 
Russians,  particularly  Livonians.  The  subjects 
of  the  'Autocrat  of  all  the  Russias  seem  to  have 
a  natural  fondness  for  nestling  in  every  warm- 
er climate,  or  more  civilized  country,  than  their 
own.  From  Palermo  to  Brussels  you  find 
them,  not  travelling,  but  fixed,  so  long  as  they 
are  allowed.  These  were  the  circumstances 
which  made  Kotzebue  choose  Manheim  for  his 
residence,  when  the  notice  excited  by  the  surrep- 
titious publication  of  his  unfortunate  bulletin 
induced  him  to  quit  Weimar,  and  it  was  here, 
in  a  small  house  towards  the  Rhine,  that  he  fell 
a  victim  to  the  fanaticism  of  Sand.  I  found  the 
murderer,  who  had  been  executed  shortly  before, 
still  the  subject  of  general  conversation.  Though 
his  deed,  besides  its  moral  turpitude,  has  done 
Germany  much  political  mischief,  the  public 
feeling  seemed  to  treat  his  memory  with  much 
indulgence.  Most  people,  except  the  students, 


30  MANHE1M. 

were  liberal  enough  to  acknowledge  that  Sand 
had   done  wrong    in  committing    assassination, 

butthey  did  not  at  all  regard  him  with  disre- 
spect, much  less  with  the  abhorrence  due  to  a 
murderer.  The  ladies  were  implacable  in  their 
resentment  at  his  execution.  They  could  easily 
forgive  the  necessity  of  cutting  off  his  head,  but 
they  could  not  pardon  the  barbarity  of  cutting 
off,  to  prepare  him  for  the  block,  the  long  dark 
locks  which  curled  down  over  his  shoulders, 
after  the  academical  fashion.  People  found 
many  things  in  his  conduct  and  situation  which 
conspired  to  make  them  regard  him  as  an  object 
of  pity,  sometimes  of  admiration,  rather  than  of 
blame.  Nobody  regrets  Kotzebue.  To  deny 
him,  as  many  have  done,  all  claims  to  talent 
and  literary  merit,  argues  sheer  ignorance  or 
stupidity  ;  but  his  talent  could  not  redeem  the 
imprudence  of  his  conduct,  and  no  man  ever 
possessed  in  greater  perfection  the  art  of  making 
enemies  wherever  he  was  placed.  Every  body 
believed,  too,  that  Sand,  however  frightfully 
erroneous  his  ideas  might  be,  acted  from  what 
he  took  to  be  a  principle  of  public  duty,  and 
not  to  gratify  any  private  interest.  This  feel- 


MANHEIM.  31 

ing,  joined  to  the  patience  and  resolution  with 
which  he  bore  up  under  fourteen  months  of  griev- 
ous bodily  suffering,  the  kindliness  of  temper 
which  he  manifested  towards  every  one  else,  and 
the  intrepidity  with  which  he  submitted  to  the 
punishment   of  his    crime,    naturally  procured 
him  in   Germany  much  sympathy   and  indul- 
gence.     Such  palliatingfeelings  towards  the  per- 
petrator of  such  a  deed  are,  no  doubt,  abundant- 
ly dangerous.     If  they  pass  the  boundary  by  a 
single  hairVbreadth,  they  become  downright  de- 
fenders of  assassination,  yet  one  cannot  entirely 
rid  himself  of  them.     It  is  one  of  the  greatest 
mischiefs  of  such  an  example,   that  it  seduces 
weak  heads  and  heated  fancies  into  a  ruinous 
coquetry  with  principles  which  make  every  man 
his  neighbour's    executioner.       Still,   it   would 
be  untrue  to  say  that  it  was  only  his  brother 
students  who  regarded  Sand  with  these  indul- 
gent eyes.     To  them,  of  course,  "he  appeared  a 
martyr   in   a  common  cause.     "  I   would  not 
have  told  him  to  do  it,1'  said  a  student  of  Heidel- 
berg to  me,  "  but  I  would  cheerfully  have  sha- 
ken hands  with  him  after  he  did  it."     Even  in 
the  more  grave  and  orderly  classes  of  society,  al- 


32  HEIDELBERG. 

though  his  crime  was  never  justified  or  applauded, 
I  could  seldom  traceany  inclination  tospeak  of  him 
with  much  rigour.  When  the  executioner  had 
struck,  the  crowd  rushed  upon  the  scaffold, 
every  one  anxious  to  pick  up  a  few  scattered 
hairs,  or  dip  a  ribbon,  a  handkerchief,  or  a  scrap 
of  paper,  in  his  blood.  Splinters  were  chipped 
from  the  reeking  block,  and  worn  in  medallions 
as  his  hair  was  in  rings,  false  and  revered  as  the 
reliques  of  a  saint.  To  the  students  of  Heidel- 
berg was  ascribed  the  attempt  to  sow  with  For- 
get-me-not the  field  on  which  he  was  beheaded  ; 
and  which  they  have  baptized  by  the  name  of 
Sandys  Ascension-Meadow.  Though  punished  as 
an  homicide,  he  was  laid  in  consecrated  ground ; 
and,  till  measures  were  taken  by  the  police  to 
prevent  it,  fresh  flowers  and  branches  of  weeping 
willow  were  nightly  strewed,  by  unknown  hands, 
on  the  murderer's  grave. 

At  Heidelberg,  the  university  still  flourishes, 
under  the  liberal  administration  of  the  house  of 
Baden,  and  the  student?,  by  far  the  most  im- 
portant personages  in  the  town,  have  their  full 
share  of  the  rawness,  and  rudeness,  and  caprices, 
which  characterize,  less  or  more,  all  the  German 


HEIDELBERG.  38 

universities.  The  shapeless  coat — the  long  hair 
— the  bare  neck — the  huge  shirt  collar,  falling 
back  on  the  shoulders — the  affectedly  careless, 
would-be-rakish  air — the  total  absence  of  all 
good  breeding,  announce,  at  once,  the  presence 
of  the  fraternity.  But  these  evil  spirits  inhabit 
a  paradise.  The  Neckar,  though  navigable  for 
small  craft,  still  retains  all  the  freshness  of  a 
mountain  stream.  On  its  left  bank,  the  town  is 
huddled  together  at  the  foot  of  the  rocks, 
plain,  irregular,  old-fashioned.  The  right  bank 
glows  with  the  vine,  ripening  beneath  higher 
ridges  of  rock  and  wood,  which  shield  it  from 
the  north.  Behind,  the  prospect  closes  as  the 
valley  recedes  along  the  windings  of  the  river ; 
to  the  west,  it  opens  out  at  once  into  the  won- 
drous plain,  and  terminates  only  at  the  Rhine. 
The  palace  of  the  Electors  of  the  Palatinate,  di- 
lapidated by  lightning,  by  war,  and  by  time, 
frowns  above  the  town.  Fortunately  it  is  a 
ruin.  In  the  days  of  its  perfect  grandeur,  a 
pile  so  huge  and  majestic,  and,  in  many  of  its 
details,  making  fair  pretensions  to  classical  ar- 
chitecture, must  have  been  out  of  place,  and,  if 
the  expression  may  be  used,  out  of  keeping  with 

4 


34  HEIDELBERG. 

the  surrounding  scenery.  Gothic  towers  and 
loop-holed  battlements  may  be  perched  on  the 
summit  of  a  precipice,  or  stuck  on  the  side  of  a 
narrow  and  romantic  valley ;  but  more  ample 
space,  and  features  more  imposing  than  the 
merely  picturesque,  are  the  fitting  accompani- 
ments of  such  a  pile  as  the  Castle  of  Heidelberg 
must  have  been,  when  its  halls  glittered  with  the 
granite  columns  which  had  once  adorned  the 
favourite  palace  of  Charlemagne.  If  this  was  a 
defect,  time  and  devastation  have  remedied  it 
superbly  ;  whatever  the  castle  may  have  been, 
the  ruin  is  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  scene, 
and  certainly  deserves  its  reputation  as  the  most 
imposing  and  majestic  in  Europe.  The  walls, 
of  a  solidity  that  seemed  to  rival  the  rock  on 
which  they  were  founded,  lie  in  the  ditches,  in 
confused  masses,  "  like  fragments  of  a  former 
world."  Among  the  stately  reliques  of  the  hall 
of  the  knights,  there  are  still  many  rich  remains 
of  the  magnificence  which  had  rendered  it  the 
boast  of  Germany ;  and,  amid  the  smoke  which 
pollutes  its  walls,  one  loves  to  imagine  he  can 
trace  the  course  of  the  flash  that  lighted  up  the 
conflagration. 


DARMSTADT. 


35 


The  humblest  part  of  the  whole,  the  cellars, 
have  alone  escaped  destruction,  for  they  are 
hewn  out  in  the  living  rock,  and,  if  old  tales 
may  be  believed,  extend  far  beneath  the  town. 
In  one  of  them  is  still  preserved  the  famed  Hei- 
delberg tun,  that  contains  I  know  not  how  ma- 
ny pipes  of  wine.  Alas  !  it  is  parched  and  emp- 
ty, as  eloquent  a  memento  of  mortal  vicissitudes 
as  the  ruined  castle.  When  the  halls  and 
courts  above  resounded  with  the  revelry  of 
knightly  banquets  and  feudal  retainers,  to  fill  it 
was  a  jubilee,  and  to  drain  it  an  amusement. 
The  family  of  the  Palatinate  is  on  the  throne  of 
Bavaria,  the  castle  is  in  ruins,  and  the  tun  is 
empty.  It  lives  only  in  the  drinking  songs  of 
the  students,  and  as  a  lion  for  the  stranger. 

At  Darmstadt,  another  small,  handsome  town, 
the  capital  of  the  Grand  Duchy  of  the  same 
name,  and,  like  Carlsruhe,  entirely  dependent 
on  the  residence  of  the  court,  I  saw  nothing  but 
a  very  splendid  theatre,  furnished  with  an  ex- 
cellent orchestra,  and  over-crowded  with  specta- 
tors, the  greater  part  of  whom  had  come  up 
from  Frankfort  for  the  sake  of  Sacchini's  QEdi- 
pus.  The  opera  is  the  ruling  passion  of  the 


36  FRANKFORT. 

Grand  Duke,  but  his  subjects  do  not  willingly 
see  so  much  money  spent  on  it  by  a  prince  who 
ranks  so  low  among  the  "  German  gentles.11  He 
has  the  best  orchestra  between  Basle  and  Brus- 
sels, and  the  only  fortification  in  his  dominions 
is  garrisoned  by  foreign  troops.  When,  after 
long  reluctance,  he  at  length  convoked  a  repre- 
sentative body  under  a  new  constitution,  the  first 
thing  the  representatives  did  was  to  quarrel  with 
it  as  too  antiquated  and  impotent.  He  trembled 
for  the  orchestra,  became  good  natured,  yielded 
them  more  liberal  terms,  and,  as  they  left  his 
opera  untouched,  there  have  been  no  more 
squabbles. 

A  farther  drive  of  fourteen  miles,  through  a 
country  more  sandy  than  any  part  of  the  plain 
on  the  Upper  Rhine,  leads  to  the  banks  of  the 
Main ;  the  well-bred  listlessness  and  courtly  de- 
meanour of  Darmstadt  are  exchanged  for  the 
noise  and  bustle  of  Frankfort.  Long  before 
reaching  the  city,  the  increasing  host  of  carriages 
and  waggons  announced  the  vicinity  of  this 
great  emporium.  On  passing  the  bridge  across 
the  Main,  the  confusion  became  inextricable,  for 
it  was  the  Michaelmas  Fair.  The  narrow  streets, 


FRANKFORT.  37 

sunk  between  tall,  old-fashioned  piles  of  build- 
ing, seemed  too  small  for  the  busy  crowd  that 
swarmed  through  them,  examining  and  bargain- 
ing about  all  the  productions  of  Europe  in  all 
its  languages.  The  outside  walls  of  the  shops, 
and,  in  many  instances,  of  the  first  floors,  were 
entirely  covered  with  large  pieces  of  cloth,  ge- 
nerally of  some  glaring  colour,  proclaiming 
the  name  and  wares  of  the  foreigner  who  had 
there  pitched  his  tent,  in  French  and  Italian, 
German,  Russian,  Polish,  Bohemian,  rarely 
English,  very  often  Hebrew.  The  last,  however, 
being  a  somewhat  inconvenient  language  for 
sign-posts,  was  generally  accompanied  by  a  trans- 
lation in  a  known  tongue.  Not  only  the  public 
squares,  but  every  spot  that  could  be  protected 
against  the  encroachments  of  wheels  and  horses, 
groaned  beneath  gaudy  and  ample  booths,  which 
displayed,  in  the  most  outre  juxta-position,  all 
that  convenience  or  luxury  has  ever  invented, 
from  wooden  platters,  Manchester  cottons,  or 
Vienna  pipe-heads,  to  the  bijouterie  of  the  Pa- 
lais Royal  or  the  china  of  Meissen,  silks  from 
Lyons,  or  chandeliers  from  the  mountains  of 
Bohemia.  Every  fair  presents,  on  a  smaller 


38  FRANKFORT. 

scale,  the  same  variety  and  confusion ;  but  the 
assemblage  of  men  from  all  quarters  of  the  globe, 
and  these,  too,  men  of  business,  in  search  of  bar- 
gains, not  amusement,  that  is  collected  in  the 
streets  and  inns  of  Frankfort,  during  the  fair,  is 
to  be  found  no  where  else,  except,  perhaps,  in 
Leipzig  on  a  similar  occasion. 

If  the  traveller  who  happens  to  arrive  at  this 
most  unfavourable  of  all  seasons  for  the  mere 
traveller  can  rest  satisfied  with  a  cellar  or  a  gar- 
ret, the  hotels  are  not  the  least  animated  part  of 
the  whole.  Butler  and  cook  have  been  prepar- 
ing during  weeks  for  the  campaign  ;  larder  and 
servants  are  put  upon  a  war  establishment ;  the 
large  hall,  reserved  in  general  for  civic  feasts  or 
civic  balls,  is  thrown  open  for  the  daily  table 
d'hote.  In  one  hotel,  above  a  hundred  and  fifty 
persons  daily  surrounded  the  table,  chattering 
all  languages  "  from  Indus  to  the  pole."  The 
newly  decked  walls  displayed  in  fresco  all 
the  famed  landscapes  of  the  Rhine,  from  Man- 
heim  to  Cologne ;  the  stuccoed  ceiling  and  gilt 
cornices  far  outshone  in  splendour  the  hall  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  way,  in  which  the  heads 
of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire  used  to  be  elected 


FRANKFORT.  39 

and  anointed.  From  a  gallery  at  either  end,  a 
full  orchestra  accompanied  each  morsel  of  sau- 
sage with  a  sounding  march,  or,  when  Hock  and 
Riidesheimer  began  to  glow  in  the  veins,  attun- 
ed the  company,  by  repeated  waltzes,  to  the 
amusements  of  the  evening.  The  merchants, 
who  flock  down  from  every  quarter,  are  not  al- 
ways allowed  to  make  their  journey  alone.  Their 
wives  and  daughters  know  full  well  that  busi- 
ness is  not  the  sole  occupation  of  a  Frankfort 
fair ;  that,  if  there  be  bills  and  balances  for  the 
gentlemen,  there  are  balls,  and  plays,  and  con- 
certs for  the  ladies,  and  that  a  gentleman,  on 
such  occasions,  is  never  so  safe  as  when  he  has 
his  own  ladies  by  his  side.  They  long  as  ear- 
nestly for  a  temporary  sojourn  in  Frankfort  as 
for  a  season  at  Spa  or  Baden.  Though,  in  ge- 
neral, neither  well  informed  nor  elegantly  bred, 
they  are  pretty,  affable,  willing  to  be  amused ; 
they  give  variety  to  the  promenades,  and  chit- 
chat to  the  table. 

Except  in  the  peculiarities  of  the  fair,  there  is 
nothing  to  distinguish  Frankfort  from  a  hundred 
other  large  cities.  It  stretches  chiefly  along  the 
right  bank  of  the  Main,  which  is  discoloured  by 


40  FRANKFORT. 

the  pollutions  of  the  city,  and  certainly  is  not 
adorned  by  the  clumsy,  shapeless  things,  called 
ships,  which  minister  to  its  commerce.  In  fact, 
a  river  of  but  moderate  size  always  loses  its  beau- 
ty in  passing  or  traversing  a  large  city.  Below 
the  town,  it  waters  a  rural,  but  somewhat  tame 
district,  as  it  creeps  on  to  the  Rhine  by  the 
vineyards  of  Hocheim.  The  city  itself  is  gene- 
rally old  ;  much  of  it  is  crazy.  There  is  only 
one  good  street  in  it,  the  Zeil,  and  great  part  of 
the  good  houses  in  that  street  are  inns.  Among 
them  is  the  one  where  Voltaire  was  seized,  on 
the  requisition  of  the  Prussian  resident,  when 
flying  from  the  wrath  of  the  monarch  to  whom 
he  had  so  long  "  washed  dirty  linen."  The 
growing  wealth  of  Frankfort  loves  to  settle  out- 
side of  the  walls ;  for  the  country,  in  the  imme- 
diate vicinity,  whether  up  the  Main,  or  back  in 
the  vallies  of  the  Taunus,  is  so  rich  in  natural 
embellishments,  that  the  affluent  naturally  prefer 
it  as  a  residence  to  the  gloom  of  the  town.  A 
number  of  delightful  villas  stud  the  slopes  and 
crown  the  summit  of  the  Miihlberg,  a  mode- 
rate eminence,  which  stretches  along  the  opposite 
bank  of  the  Main,  equally  celebrated  for  the 


FRANKFORT.  41 

wine  and  the  prospect  which  it  yields.  There, 
reposing  from  the  calculations  of  the  counting- 
house,  the  merchant  contemplates  below,  in  silent 
rapture,  the  passage  of  sail  and  waggon  that 
bring  the  materials  of  his  wealth,  and  the  pro- 
gress of  the  vines  that  are  to  renew  the  stores  of 
his  cellar. 

The  cathedral,  a  work  of  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury, is  still  less  interesting  in  itself,  than  for  its 
antiquity  ;  the  unfinished  tower,  the  unfinished 
labour  of  a  whole  century,  sits  heavy  on  the 
building.  The  Romer,  or  Roman,  a  building 
now  used  for  the  public  offices,  is  supposed  to 
derive  its  name  from  having  been,  if  not  built,  at 
least  used  as  a  warehouse  by  Lombard  mer- 
chants in  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  centuries, 
while  Venice  still  distributed  the  productions  of 
the  East  into  the  North.  It  was  afterwards  ap- 
plied to  a  more  noble  purpose,  which  alone  gives 
it  any  interest ;  within  its  walls  the  German 
Emperors  were  elected  and  crowned.  There  is 
still  preserved,  as  a  solitary  remnant  of  majes- 
ty, a  copy  of  the  Golden  Bull,  the  document 
that  determined  the  rights  of  prince  and  subject 
in  an  empire  anomalous  while  it  endured,  and 


42  FRANKFORT. 

not  regretted  now  that  it  is  gone.  The  cornice 
above  the  crimson  tapestry,  with  which  the  elec- 
tion chamber  is  entirely  hung,  has  been  allowed 
to  retain  the  armorial  bearings  of  the  electors, 
and  they  now  witness  the  deliberations  of  the 
Senate  of  Frankfort.  The  hall  where  the  em- 
perors were  crowned  can  never  have  been  wor- 
thy of  so  august  a  ceremony. 

A  city  where  every  man  and  every  moment  is 
devoted  to  money-making  is  not  the  favourite 
abode  of  the  arts,  even  though  it  be  decorated 
with  the  epithet  of  free.  Frankfort,  indeed,  pos- 
sesses a  picture  gallery,  but  I  saw  little  in  it 
worth  seeing  again.  The  magnificent  legacy  of 
a  banker  who,  some  years  ago,  bequeathed  a 
fortune  of  a  hundred  thousand  pounds,  for  the 
encouragement  of  the  arts,  and  the  support  of 
young  artists,  will  probably  produce,  as  similar 
eleemosynary  institutions  commonly  have  done, 
an  abundant  crop  of  mediocrity.  In  the  sub- 
urban gardens  of  the  wealthiest  among  the  mer- 
chants is  the  masterpiece  of  Dannecker,  a 
sculptor  of  Wirtemberg,  Ariadne  on  a  leopard. 
The  figure  is  well  cut,  but  the  attitude  is  un- 
pleasant ;  she  is  too  nicely  and  anxiously  balan- 


FRANKFORT.  4tf 

ced  on  the  back  of  the  animal,  like  a  timorous 
rope-dancer.  Never  was  sculptor  so  unfortu- 
nate in  his  marble.  The  Goddess  of  Naxos 
looks  as  if  she  had  been  hewn  out  of  old  Stilton 
cheese  ;  her  naked  body  is  covered  with  blue 
spots  and  blue  streaks,  from  the  crown  of  the 
head  to  the  sole  of  the  foot.  The  citizens  have 
long  wished  to  erect  a  monument  to  their  great 
townsman,  Gothe ;  but  the  opposition  made  to  it, 
even  from  the  press,  (for  Gothe  has  many  de- 
tractors) seems  to  have  convinced  them  of  the 
propriety  of  deferring  it,  at  least,  till  the  patri- 
arch be  dead ;  and  few  men  have  outlived  so 
many  admirers. 

Frankfort,  in  consequence  of  her  commercial 
relations,  is  so  thoroughly  under  foreign  influ- 
ence, and  so  polluted  by  a  mixture  of  all  foreign 
manners,  that  her  population  can  hardly  be  said 
to  have  a  character  of  their  own,  except  what 
consists  in  a  love  to  make  money  in  every  ima- 
ginable way.  Even  the  multifarious  connections 
with  all  ends  of  the  earth,  which  have  made  her 
citizens  in  a  manner  citizens  of  the  world,  have 
unfitted  them  to  be  German  citizens  ;  for  they 
judge  of  the  happiness  of  mankind  by  the  rate 


44  FRANKFORT. 

of  exchange,  and  the  price  of  wine.  Let  no  one 
hastily  condemn  the  worthy  citizens  of  Frank- 
fort for  thus  forgetting,  in  the  pursuits  of  the 
merchant  and  money  speculator,  what  the  politi- 
cian might,  perhaps,  hold  to  be  the  interest  of 
their  common  country  ;  or,  at  least,  before  pro- 
nouncing his  doom  on  their  imagined  selfishness, 
let  him  study  the  port  of  London,  or  Liverpool, 
or  Bristol,  and  discover,  if  he  can,  a  purer  foun- 
dation for  English  mercantile  patriotism. 

Of  the  fifty  thousand  inhabitants  who  form 
the  population  of  Frankfort,  about  seven  thou- 
sand are  Jews.  Perhaps  they  might  have  been 
expected  to  increase  more  rapidly  in  a  city  whose 
favourite  pursuits  are  so  congenial  to  the  traf- 
ficking spirit  of  Israel,  while  its  constitution  gave 
them  a  toleration  in  religion,  and  security  of 
property,  which  they  obtained  only  at  a  much 
later  period  from  more  powerful  masters.  They 
are  noisome  in  more  senses  than  one.  They  in- 
habit chiefly  one  quarter  of  the  town,  which, 
though  no  longer  walled  in,  as  it  once  was,  to  se- 
parate them  from  the  rest  of  the  community,  re- 
pels the  Christian  intruder,  at  every  step,  with 
filth  much  too  disgusting  to  be  particularized. 


FfcANKFOttl.  4£ 

In  the  driving  of  their  traffic  they  are  importu- 
nate as  Italian  beggars.     Laying  in  wait  in  his 
little  dark  shop,  or  little  tattered  booth,  or,  if 
these  be  buried  in  some  obscure  and  sickening 
alley,  prowling  at  the  corner  where  it  joins  some 
more  frequented  street,  the  Jew  darts  out  on 
every  passenger  of  promise.     He  seems  to  pos- 
sess a  peculiar  talent  at  discovering,  even  in  the 
Babel  of  Frankfort,  the  country  of  the  person 
whom  he  addresses,  and  seldom  fails  to  hit  the 
right  language.     Unless  thrown  off  at  once,  he 
sticks  to  you   through  half  a  street,  whispering 
the  praises  of  his  wares  mingled  with  your  own; 
for,  curving  the  spare,  insignificant  body  into 
obsequiousness,  and  throwing  into  the  twinkling 
gray  eye  as  much  condescension  as  its  keenly 
expressed  love  of  gain  will  admit,  he  conducts 
the  whole  oration  as  if  he  were  sacrificing  him- 
self to  do  you  a  favour  of  which  nobody  must 
know.     When  all  the  usual  recommendations  of 
great  bargains  fail,  he  generally  finishes  the  cli- 
max  with  "  On  my  soul  and  conscience,   Sir, 
they  are  genuine  smuggled  goods." 

It  seems  to  be  the  lot  of  the  Jew  to  make  him- 
self singular  even  in  trades  which  he  drives  in 


46  FRANKFORT. 

common  with  Christians,  much  more  palpably  than 
he  differs  from  them  in  their  religious  faith.  In 
a  Protestant  country  a  Catholic  is  not  known, 
nor  in  a  Catholic  country  a  Protestant,  till  you 
open  his  prayer-book,  or  follow  him  into  his 
church  ;  but  the  peculiarities  which  keep  the 
Jew  separate  from  the  world  belong  to  every -day 
life.  It  is  true,  that,  all  over  Europe,  indivi- 
duals are  to  be  found  who  seldom  repair  to  the 
synagogue,  and  have  overcome  the  terrors  of 
barbers  and  bacon  ;  but  these  are  regarded  in 
heart,  by  their  more  orthodox  brethren,  as  the 
freethinkers  and  backsliders  of  the  tribes  of  Is- 
rael, whose  sinful  compliances  must  exclude 
them  from  the  church  triumphant,  though  the 
ungodly  portion  of  mammon,  which  they  have 
contrived  to  amass,  may  render  it  prudent  to  re- 
tain them  nominally  within  the  pale  of  the  com- 
munion below.  The  peculiarities  of  the  general 
mass  form  a  lasting  wall  of  partition  between 
them  and  their  Christian  neighbours.  In  his 
modes  of  appellation,  in  his  meats,  in  his  amuse- 
ments, the  Jew  is  a  separatist  from  the  world, 
uniting  himself  to  a  solitary  community,  not  on- 
ly in  his  religious  faith,  which  no  one  minds, 


FRANKFORT.  47 

but  in  matters  which  enter  into  the  spirit,  and 
descend  to  the  details  of  ordinary  life.  Whether 
you  dine,  or  pray,  or  converse,  or  correspond 
with  a  pure  and  conscientious  Jew,  some  pecu- 
liarity forces  upon  your  notice,  that  he  is  not  one 
of  the  people  ;  and  in  these,  more  than  in  the  pe- 
culiarities of  their  religious  creed,  rests  the  exe- 
cution of  the  curse,  which  still  keeps  the  de- 
scendants of  Israel  a  distinct  and  despised  peo- 
ple among  the  Gentile  nations. 

As  a  recompence  for  having  lost  the  elections 
and  coronations  of  the  emperors,  Frankfort  was 
made  the  seat  of  the  Germanic  Diet,  and  would 
boast  of  being  the  seat  of  governmentof  the  whole 
Germanic  body,  if  the  Diet  were  a  government. 
But,  except  that  the  presence  of  the  deputies  and 
foreign  ministers  increases  the  number  of  dinners 
and  carriages  in  Frankfort,  the  Germans  main- 
tain, that  the  confederation,  in  which  they  have 
been  bound,  serves  no  one  purpose  of  a  govern- 
ment, but  is  merely  a  clumsy  and  expensive  in- 
strument, to  enable  Austria  and  Prussia  to  go- 
vern all  Germany.  The  thing  looks  well  enough 
on  paper,  they  say,  for  the  votes  appear  to  be 
distributed  according  to  the  population  of  the 


48  FHANKFORT. 

different  states;  but  in  its  working  it  manifests 
only  the  dictatorial  preponderance  of  powers 
which  they  will  not  acknowledge  to  be  German 
in  point  of  interest,  and  only  partially  German 
even  in  point  of  territory.  One-third  of  the 
votes,  in  the  ordinary  meetings,  belong  to  Austria, 
Prussia,  England,  Denmark,  and  the  Netherlands. 
The  small  powers,  who  form  the  majority  with 
half  and  quarter  votes,  or,  as  in  one  case,  with 
the  sixth  part  of  a  vote,  are  entirely  dependent 
on  these  greater  states.  These  greater  states, 
though  possessing  territories  in  Germany,  are  es- 
sentially foreign  in  their  strength  and  interests,  and, 
enjoying  an  irresistible  influence  in  the  Diet,  they 
have  handed  over  the  government  of  Germany 
to  Austria  and  Prussia ;  while  Prussia,  again, 
seems  to  have  thrown  herself  into  the  arms  of 
Russia,  and  Austria  has  been  for  centuries  the 
bigotted  opponentof  every  thing  which  might  tend 
to  render  Germany  independent  of  the  house  of 
Hapsburgh.  The  Emperor  Francis  did  well 
not  to  labour  after  the  restoration  of  the  empire ; 
for,  instead  of  remaining  the  limited  and  elective 
head  of  a  disjointed  monarchy,  he  has  become 
the  hereditary  dictator  of  a  submissive  confede- 


FRANKFORT.  49 

ration ;  instead  of  negotiating  at  Ratisbonne,  he 
can  command  at  Frankfort.  Thus  the  German- 
ic Diet  is  essentially  the  representative,  not  of 
German,  but  of  foreign  interests,  guided  by  po- 
tentates who  claim  a  voice  in  its  measures  in  vir- 
tue of  a  portion  of  their  territories,  and  then 
throw  in  upon  its  deliberations  the  whole  weight 
of  their  preponderating  political  and  military 
influence,  to  guard  their  own  foreign  interests, 
and  effectuate  schemes  of  policy,  which  have  no 
relation  to  the  union,  or  independence,  or  wel- 
fare of  Germany. 

The  confederation  provides,  to  be  sure,  a  pub- 
lic treasury  and  a  common  army  for  the  defence 
of  the  country,  but  of  what  use  are  a  treasury 
and  army  which  stand  at  the  disposal  of  foreign 
influence  ?  Moreover,  it  does  not  leave  the  states 
which  compose  it  even  political  independence 
among  themselves,  and  the  quiet  administration 
of  their  internal  concerns.  It  seems  to  be  the 
right  of  a  sovereign  prince  to  give  his  subjects 
as  popular  institutions  as  he  may  think  proper ; 
but  the  sovereign  princes  of  Germany  must  pre- 
viously obtain,  through  the  medium  of  the  Diet, 
the  permission  of  the  courts  of  Vienna  and  Ber- 

VOL.  i.  c 


50  FRANKFORT. 

lin.  On  this  body  they  are  dependent  for  the 
degree  in  which  they  shall  descend  from  the  old 
arbitrary  prerogative ;  for  the  confederation, 
while  it  thus  lops  off  the  most  unquestionable 
rights  of  sovereign  states,  has  formally  declared, 
with  ridiculous  inconsistency,  that  it  can  contain 
only  sovereign  princes — and  all  the  world  knows 
what  a  sovereign  prince  means  in  the  language 
of  Vienna.  Freedom  of  discussion  among  them- 
selves, and  the  power  of  communicating  their 
deliberations  to  those  for  whom  they  legislate, 
seem  to  be  inseparable  from  the  useful  existence 
of  a  legislative  body  ;  but,  by  the  provisions  of 
the  confederation,  this  eternal  minor  placed  un- 
der the  tutelage  of  foreign  powers,  the  Diet  is 
bound  to  take  care,  that  neither  the  discussions  in 
such  assemblies  themselves,  where  they  exist  by 
sufferance,  nor  their  publication  through  the 
press,  shall  endanger  the  tranquillity  of  Ger- 
many— and  all  the  world  knows  by  what  stand- 
ard Prince  Metternich  measures  public  tranquil- 
lity. 

Even  in  the  states  where  representative  go- 
vernments have  been  established,  the  confedera- 
tion deprives  them  of  ail  power  in  the  most  im- 


FRANKFORT.  51 

portant  questions  that  can  be  put  to  a  nation, 
those  of  peace  and  war  ;  for  it  has  expressly  pro- 
vided, that  no  constitution  shall  be  allowed  to 
impede  a  prince,  who  belongs  to  the  confedera- 
tion, in  the  performance  of  the  duties  which  the 
Diet  may  think  proper  to  impose  upon  him. 
Whether  Bavaria  or  Wirtemberg,  for  example, 
shall  go  to  war,  is  not  in  every  case  a  question 
for  her  own  king  and  parliament,  but  for  the 
Prussian  and  Austrian  envoys  at  Frankfort.  If 
the  powers  which,  though  essentially  foreign, 
are  preponderating,  find  it  useful  to  employ  the 
money  and  arms  of  the  Germanic  body,  the  con- 
stitution at  home  is  virtually  suspended.  The 
Diet  is  despotic  in  legislative,  and  executive,  and 
judicial  authority  ;  and,  if  any  part  of  the  terri- 
tory included  in  the  confederation  be  attacked, 
the  whole  body  is  ipso  facto  in  a  state  of  war. 
France  quarrels  with  Austria  and  the  Nether- 
lands ;  she  attacks  the  former  in  Italy,  and  the 
latter  in  the  duchy  of  Luxembourg,  which  is  a 
part  of  the  confederation  ;  the  whole  Germanic 
body  must  fly  to  arms,  for  the  territory  of  the 
confederation  is  attacked.  Although  Bavaria,  for 
instance,  should  have  no  more  interest  in  thequar- 


52  FRANKFORT. 

rel  than  his  Majesty  of  Otaheite,  she  must  sub- 
rait  to  the.  misery  and  extravagance  of  war,  as  if 
an  enemy  stood  on  the  banks  of  her  own  Iser. 
In  vain  may  her  parliament  resolve  for  peace, 
and  refuse  to  vote  either  men  or  money  ;  it  is 
the  duty  of  their  king  to  go  to  war  for  the  in- 
violability of  this  ricketty  and  heterogeneous 
confederation.  The  decision  belongs,  not  to  the 
monarch  and  representatives  of  the  Bavarian 
people,  but  to  the  diplomatists  of  Frankfort,  and 
if  the  former  be  backward,  a  hundred  thousand 
Austrians  can  speedily  supply  the  place  of  tax- 
gatherers  and  recruiting-officers. 

These  are  the  sentiments  which  are  heard 
every  where  in  Germany  ;  and,  making  every 
allowance  for  national  partialities,  there  certain- 
ly is  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  them.  The  Ger- 
manic confederation  has  nothing  equal  in  it ;  it 
is  ruled  by  foreigners,  for  even  the  votes  of  Ha- 
nover obey  the  ministry  of  England.  Weimar, 
whose  liberal  institutions  and  free  press  had  been 
guaranteed  by  this  very  diet,  was  compelled  to 
violate  it,  and  submit  to  a  censorship,  at  the  will 
of  a  congress  of  ministers,  whom  Germany  can 
justly  call  foreign,  assembled  at  Carlsbad.  If  I 


FRANKFORT.  53 

observed  rightly,  the  preponderance  of  Austria 
is  peculiarly  grating  to  the  powers  more  proper- 
ly German.  They  know  that  Austria  is  the  very 
last  among  them  which  can  pretend  to  be  reckon- 
ed a  pure  German  state ;  the  greatest  part  of  her 
population  does  not  even  speak  the  language ; 
they  are  at  least  her  equals  in  military  fame,  and 
have  far  outstripped  her  in  all  the  arts  of  peace, 
It  is  not  wonderful  they  should  feel  degraded  at 
seeing  their  common  country  subjected  to  the 
domination  of  a  power  in  which  they  find  so  lit- 
tle to  love  or  respect.  If  you  wish  to  know  the 
politics  of  the  confederation,  say  the  Germans, 
you  must  inquire,  riot  at  Frankfort,  but  at 
Vienna  or  Berlin.  One  thing  is  certain,  viz. 
that  the  southern  states,  which  have  adopted  po- 
pular institutions, musthang  together  in  good  and 
evil  report.  It  is  only  in  a  determined  spirit  of 
union,  and  in  the  honest  support  of  Hanover, 
that  Bavaria,  and  Wirtemberg,  and  Baden,  can 
be  safe.  The  "  delenda  est  Carthago"  of  Cato 
was  much  less  necessary  in  Rome,  than  "  ca- 
venda  est  Austria"  is  in  Munich,  and  Stuttgard, 
and  Hanover. 

The  Diet  is  held  to  be  utterly  impotent  even 


5  FRANKFORT. 

in  its  most  important  duty,  the  preservation  of 
that  equality  among  its  own  members,  without 
which  a  confederation  is  one  of  the  most  into- 
lerable forms  of  oppression.  The  King  of  Prus- 
sia chose  to  lay  taxes,  as  was  alleged,  on  the  sub- 
jects of  his  neighbour  the  Duke  of  Anhalt  Co- 
then,  both  of  them  members  of  the  confedera- 
tion. The  little  duke  brought  his  action  be- 
fore the  Diet  against  the  great  king.  All  Ger- 
many was  on  tiptoe  expectation  to  see  how  the 
supreme  government  would  discharge  its  duty. 
The  supreme  government  was  much  averse  to 
show  the  nakedness  of  its  impotency  in  a  dispute 
where  all  was  strength  on  the  one  side,  and 
all  weakness  on  the  other,  and  contrived  to 
have  the  case  settled  out  of  court ;  a  phrase  by 
no  means  out  of  place,  for  the  form  and  nomen- 
clature of  proceeding  in  the  supreme  executive 
government  of  Germany  would  be  intelligible 
only  in  the  Court  of  Chancery,  or,  still  more,  in 
the  Scottish  Court  of  Session.  Nothing  is  ma- 
naged without  whole  reams  of  petitions,  and  an- 
swers, and  replies,  and  duplies.  A  growler  of 
Berlin  was  asked,  '•  what  is  the  Diet  about  ?"* 


SELIGEXSTADT.  55 

"  Of  course,  examining  the  stationer's  accounts," 
was  the  reply. 

But  these  are  dry  matters.  It  will  be  more 
amusing  to  follow  the  course  of  the  Main,  a 
dozen  miles  upwards  from  Frankfort,  to  "  the 
Abode  of  Bliss,"  (Seligenstadt,)  a  small  village 
which,  close  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  peeps  forth 
from  a  decaying  forest.  It  has  its  name  from 
having  witnessed  the  loves,  as  it  still  preserves  the 
remains,  of  Eginhard  and  Emma.  A  scanty  ruin 
called  the  Red  Tower,  is  still  pointed  out  as  hav- 
ing been  part  of  the  original  residence  of  the  lo- 
vers, after  Charlemagne  prudently  consented  to 
save  the  honour  of  his  daughter,  by  giving  her 
to  the  aspiring  secretary.  Eginhard  built  a 
church  on  the  spot,  and  stored  it  with  reliques. 
The  peasantry,  having  forgotten  the  names,  and 
never  known  the  history,  have  a  version  of  their 
own.  According  to  their  legend,  the  daughter 
of  an  emperor  who  was  celebrating  his  Christ- 
mas holidays  at  Frankfort,  (and  one  of  them 
told  me  his  name  was  Emperor  Nero,)  fell  in 
love  with  a  huntsman  of  her  father's  train.  She 
fled  with  her  lover,  as  young  ladies  will  do  now 
and  then,  when  papas  look  sour  and  young  gen- 


56  SELIGEUSTADT. 

tlernen  look  sweet.  They  found  refuge  and 
concealment  in  the  forest,  an  outskirt  of  the  Spes- 
sart,  which,  though  now  so  much  thinned,  in 
those  days  spread  its  oaks  far  and  wide  over  the 
country.  They  built  themselves  a  hut,  and,  of 
course,  lived  happily.  The  young  man  was 
expert  and  industrious  as  a  deer  stealer;  the 
lady  boasted  acquirements  in  cookery  which 
subsequently  were  turned  to  excellent  account. 
Years  pass  away ;  the  emperor  happens  to  hunt 
again  in  the  forest;  overcome  by  hunger,  fa- 
tigue, and  a  long  chace,  he  stumbles,  with  his 
suite,  on  the  solitary  cottage,  arid  asks  a  dinner. 
The  confounded  inmates  prepare  to  set  before 
him  the  only  repast  their  poverty  affords,  veni- 
son poached  in  his  own  forest.  The  emperor 
did  not  recognize  his  lost  daughter  in  the  more 
womanly  form  and  rustic  disguise  of  the  hostess ; 
but  the  daughter  recognized  her  father,  and,  as 
woman's  wit  knows  no  ebb,  served  up  to  his 
majesty  a  dish  which  she  knew  to  have  been  his 
favourite,  and  of  which  he  had  never  eaten  ex- 
cept when  it  was  prepared  by  her  own  skilful 
hands.  Nero  has  scarcely  tasted  of  the  dish 
which  he  has  wanted  so  long,  when  he  breaks 


SELIGENSTADT.  57 

forth  into  lamentations  over  the  daughter  whom 
he  has  lost  just  as  long,  and  anxiously  interro- 
gates his  young  hostess  from  whom  she  had 
learned  cookery.  The  runaway  and  her  hun- 
ter fall  at  his  feet :  Emperor  Nero  was  a  kind- 
hearted  old  man  ;  all  is  forgiven ;  he  names  the 
spot  the  Abode  of  Bliss,  in  commemoration  at 
once  of  his  dinner  and  his  daughter,  carries  the 
pair  to  his  palace,  and  till  his  dying  day  eats  of 
his  favourite  meal  as  often  as  he  chooses.  The 
lovers  built  a  church  where  their  hut  had  stood, 
and  were  buried  together  within  its  walls. 

Such  is  the  tradition  of  the  Franconian  pea- 
sant. There  is  no  doubt  that  the  church  was 
built,  if  not  in  the  reign,  yet  shortly  after  the 
death  of  Charlemagne  ;  but  it  is  just  as  little 
doubtful  that,  in  its  present  form,  it  belongs  to  a 
much  later  age.  What  is  called  modern  taste  has 
been  guilty  of  an  unpardonable  breach  of  good 
taste.  The  bones  of  Eginhard  and  his  Emma 
reposed,  as  they  ought  to  have  done,  in  a  mas- 
sy antique  sarcophagus  on  an  antique  monu- 
ment. Some  ruthless  stone-hewer  has  been  al- 
lowed to  unhouse  the  ashes  of  the  lovers  from 
their  venerable  abode,  and  inclose  them  in  a  new 
c  2 


58  SELIGENSTADT. 

shining,  toy-shop  chest.  Theseare  men  who  would 
set  "  Margaret's  Ghost1"  to  the  air  of  "  Pray, 
Goody,"  and  dash  the  wall-flower  from  a  ruin 
to  plant  tulips  in  its  stead. 

This  Abode  of  Bliss  boasts  another  species  of 
beatitude.  It  is  a  frontier  village  of  the  duchy 
of  Darmstadt  towards  Bavaria,  and  the  traveller 
who  passes  the  confines  for  the  first  time  must 
submit  to  a  Bacchanalian  ceremony.  It  was 
here  that,  in  the  olden  time,  the  merchants  com- 
ing to  the  fair  from  East,  and  North,  and  South, 
used  to  assemble.  Here  they  were  accustomed 
to  drink  deep  congratulations  on  the  journey 
they  had  accomplished  in  safety,  and  good  wish- 
es to  the  approaching  fair ;  and  from  hence  they 
were  conducted  in  triumph  into  the  city  by  the 
town  guards  of  Frankfort.  They  had  procured 
a  huge  wooden  ladle  ;  the  handle  depends  from 
a  wooden  chain  about  three  feet  long;  ladle 
and  chain  are  cut  out  of  the  same  piece  of  wood,  a 
sample  of  early  Niirnberg  workmanship.  This  re- 
lique  is  religiously  preserved  in  an  inn  at  Seligen- 
stadt.  Every  traveller  who  passes  the  frontier  for 
the  first  time  must  drain  the  ladle,  brimful  of 
wine,  (it  contains  a  bottle,)  at  one  draught.  This 


SELIGENSTADT.  59 

is  the  strict  rule ;  but,  in  general,  he  can  es- 
cape without  getting  drunk,  by  promising  the 
bystanders  the  remainder  of  the  bottle.  His 
name  is  then  enrolled  in  an  Album  which  has 
now  reached  the  third  folio  volume,  and  contains 
the  names  of  most  crowned  heads  in  Europe 
during  the  last  two  hundred  years. 


60 


WEIMAR. 


CHAPTER  II. 

WEIMAR. 

Klein  ist  unter  den  Fiirsten  Germaniens  freylich  der  meine, 
Kurz  und  schmal  1st  sein  Land,  massig  nur  was  er  vermag. 

Aber  so  wende  nach  innen,  so  wende  nach  aussen  die  Krafte 
Jeder,  da  war  ein  Fest  Deutscher  mit  Ueutscher  zu  seyn. 

Gothr. 

As  the  traveller  proceeds  northward  from 
Frankfort  towards  Saxony,  the  vine-covered 
hills  of  the  Main  speedily  disappear  to  give 
place  to  the  Thuringian  Forest,  which  still  re- 
tains its  name,  though  cultivation  has  stripped 
much  of  it  of  its  honours.  The  country  which 
it  covered  forms  a  succession  of  low  rounded 
ridges,  which  inclose  broad  valleys  swarming 
with  a  most  industrious  population.  Except  to- 
wards Cassel,  where  many  ridges  still  retain 
their  covering  of  beeches,  the  corn-field  and  or- 
4 


WEIMAR.  61 

chard  have  only  allowed  an  occasional  tuft  to  re- 
main round  the  cottages  for  shelter,  or  to  crown 
the  brow  of  the  hill  to  supply  fuel.  To  the  ter- 
ritory of  Cassel  succeeds  part  of  the  Grand 
Duchy  of  Weimar,  for,  between  the  Thurin- 
gian  forest  and  the  foot  of  Erzgebirge,  nestles  a 
crowd  of  the  small  princes  who,  by  family  in- 
fluence, or  political  services,  have  saved  their  in- 
significant independence.  To  a  few  miles  of 
Weimar  succeed  a  few  miles  of  Gotha ;  these 
are  followed  by  a  slip  of  Prussia,  and  the  Prus- 
sian fortress  Erfurth ;  you  are  scarcely  out  of 
the  reach  of  the  cannon,  when  you  are  out  of  the 
territory,  and  find  yourself  again  in  the  domi- 
nions of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Saxe- Weimar. 

Weimar,  the  capital  of  a  state  whose  whole 
population  does  not  exceed  two  hundred  thou- 
sand souls,  scarcely  deserves  the  name  of  a  town. 
The  inhabitants,  vain  as  they  are  of  its  well  earn- 
ed reputation  as  the  German  Athens,  take  a 
pride  in  having  it  considered  merely  as  a  large 
village.  Neither  nature  nor  art  has  done  any- 
thing to  beautify  it ;  there  is  scarcely  a  straight 
street,  nor,  excepting  the  palace,  and  the  build- 
ing in  which  parliament  assembles,  is  there  a 


62  WEIMAR. 

large  house  in  the  whole  town.  In  three  min- 
utes a  person  can  be  as  completely  in  the  coun- 
try as  if  he  were  twenty  miles  removed.  The 
palace  is  imposing  only  from  its  extent,  and  is 
still  unfinished ;  for  the  Grand  Duke,  having 
made  as  much  of  it  habitable  as  was  required 
for  his  own  court  and  the  family  of  his  eldest 
son,  is  too  economical  with  the  money  of  his 
subjects  to  hasten  the  completion  of  his  palace, 
before  his  little  territory  shall  have  recovered  from 
the  misery  and  exhaustion  which  began  with 
the  battle  of  Jena,  and  terminated  only  after  the 
victory  at  Leipzig. 

The  Ilm,  a  narrow  muddy  stream,  creeps  past 
the  town.  Along  the  river  woods  have  been 
planted,  walks  laid  out,  rocks  hewn  into  the  per- 
pendicular where  they  were  to  be  found,  and 
plastered  up  into  monticules  where  they  were 
not  to  be  found,  all  to  form  a  park,  or,  as  they 
often  style  it,  an  English  garden.  In  the  de- 
tail of  ornament,  the  wits  of  Weimar  have  fallen 
into  some  littlenesses  too  trifling  perhaps  to  be 
noticed,  were  it  not  that  here  we  expect  to  find 
every  thing  correct  in  matters  of  taste,  because 

Weimar  has  been  the  nurse  of  the  taste  of  Ger- 
10 


WEIMAR.  63 

many.  It  is  quite  allowable,  for  instance,  to  erect 
an  altar  in  a  shady  corner,  and  inscribe  it  GENIO 
LOCI  ;  but  though  a  serpent  came  forth  from  be- 
neath the  altar  on  which  ^Eneas  was  sacrificing 
to  the  manes  of  his  father,  and  ate  up  the  cakes, 
that  is  no  good  reason  why  a  stone  snake  should 
wind  himself  round  the  altar  of  the  Genius  of 
the  English  garden  of  Weimar,  and  bite  into  a 
stone  roll  laid  for  him  on  the  top. 

It  is  not  in  Weimar  that  the  gaiety,  or  the 
loud  and  loose  pleasures  of  a  capital  are  to  be 
sought ;  there  are  too  few  idlepeople,  and  too  little 
wealth,  for  frivolous  dissipation.  Without  either 
spies  or  police,  the  smallness  of  the  town  and 
the  mode  of  life  place  every  one  under  the  no- 
tice of  the  court,  and  the  court  has  never  al- 
lowed its  literary  elegance  to  be  stained  by  ex- 
travagant parade,  or  licentiousness  of  conduct. 
The  nobility,  though  sufficiently  numerous  for 
the  population,  are  persons  of  but  moderate  for- 
tunes ;  many  of  them  would  find  it  difficult  to 
play  their  part,  frugal  and  regular  as  the  mode 
of  life  is,  were  they  not  engaged  in  the  service 
of  the  government  in  some  capacity  or  another, 
as  ministers,  counsellors,  judges,  or  chamber- 


64  WEIMAR. 

lains.  There  is  not  much  dissoluteness  to  be 
feared  where  it  is  necessary  to  climb  an  outside 
stair  to  the  routs  of  a  minister,  and  a  lord  of  the 
bedchamber  gives,  in  a  third  floor,  parties  which 
are  honoured  with  the  presence  even  of  princes. 
The  man  of  pleasure  would  find  Weimar  dull. 
The  forenoon  is  devoted  to  business  ;  even  the 
straggling  few  who  have  nothing  to  do  would  be 
ashamed  to  show  themselves  idle,  till  the  ap- 
proach of  an  early  dinner  hour  justifies  a  walk 
in  the  park,  or  a  ride  to  Belvedere.  At  six 
o'clock  every  one  hies  to  the  theatre,  which  is 
just  a  large  family  meeting,  excepting  that  the 
Grand  Ducal  personages  sit  in  a  separate  box. 
The  performance  closes  about  nine  o'clock,  and 
it  is  expected  that  by  ten  every  household  shall 
be  sound  asleep,  or,  at  least,  soberly  within  its 
own  walls  for  the  night.  It  is  perhaps  an  evil 
in  these  small  capitals  that  the  court,  like  Aaron's 
serpent,  swallows  up  every  other  species  of  so- 
ciety ;  but  at  Weimar  this  is  less  to  be  regretted, 
because  the  court  parties  have  less  parade  and 
formality  than  are  frequently  to  be  found  in 
those  of  private  noblemen  in  London  or  Paris : 


"WEIMAR. 


65 


it  is  merely  the  best  bred,  and  best  informed  so- 
ciety of  the  place. 

The  Grand  Duke  is  the  most  popular  prince 
in  Europe,  and  no  prince  could  better  deserve 
the  attachment  which  his  people  lavish  upon  him. 
We  have  long  been  accustomed  to  laugh  at  the 
pride  and  poverty  of  petty  German  princes  ;  but 
nothing  can  give  a  higher  idea  of  the  respectabi- 
lity which  so  small  a  people  may  assume,  and 
the  quantity  of  happiness  which  one  of  these  in- 
significant monarchs  may  diffuse  around  him, 
than  the  example  of  this  little  state,  with  a  prince 
like  the  present  Grand  Duke  at  its  head.  The 
mere  pride  of  sovereignty,  frequently  most  pro- 
minent where  there  is  only  the  title  to  justify  it, 
is  unknown  to  him  ;  he  is  the  most  affable  man 
in  his  dominions,  not  simply  with  the  condescen- 
sion which  any  prince  can  learn  to  practise  as  a 
useful  quality,  but  from  goodness  of  heart.  His 
talents  are  far  above  mediocrity ;  no  prince  could 
be  less  attached  to  the  practices  of  arbitrary 
power,  while  his  activity,  and  the  conscientious- 
ness with  which  he  holds  himself  bound  to  watch 
over  the  welfare  of  his  handful  of  subjects, 
have  never  allowed  him  to  be  blindly  guided  bj 


DO  WEIMAR. 

ministers.  Much  of  his  reign  has  fallen  in  evil 
times.  He  saw  his  principality  overrun  with 
greater  devastation  than  had  visited  it  since  the 
Thirty  Years'  War  ;  but  in  every  vicissitude  he 
knew  how  to  command  the  respect  even  of  the 
conqueror,  and  to  strengthen  himself  more  firm- 
ly in  the  affections  of  his  subjects.  During  the 
whole  of  his  long  reign,  the  conscientious  ad- 
ministration of  the  public  money,  anxiety  for  the 
impartiality  of  justice,  the  instant  and  sincere 
attention  given  to  every  measure  of  public  bene- 
fit, the  ear  and  hand  always  open  to  relieve  in- 
dividual misfortune,  the  efforts  which  he  has 
made  to  elevate  the  political  character  of  his  peo- 
ple, crowned  by  the  voluntary  introduction  of  a 
representative  government,  have  rendered  the 
Grand  Duke  of  Weimar  the  most  popular 
prince  in  Germany  among  his  own  subjects,  and 
ought  to  make  him  rank  among  the  most  re- 
spectable in  the  eyes  of  foreigners,  so  far  as  re- 
spectability is  to  be  measured  by  personal  merit, 
not  by  square  miles  of  territory,  or  millions  of 
revenue. 

His  people  likewise  justly  regard  him  as  hav- 
ing raised  their  small  state  to  an  eminence  from 


WEIMAR.  67 

which  its  geographical  and  political  insignifi- 
cance seemed  to  have  excluded  it.  Educated  by 
Wieland,  he  grew  up  for  the  arts,  just  as  the  li- 
terature  of  Germany  was  beginning  to  triumph 
over  the  obstacles  which  the  indifference  of  the 
people,  and  the  naturalization  of  French  litera- 
ture, favoured  by  such  prejudices  as  those  of 
Frederick  the  Great,  had  thrown  in  its  way. 
He  drew  to  his  court  the  most  distinguished 
among  the  rising  genuises  of  the  country  ;  he  lov- 
ed their  arts,  he  could  estimate  their  talents,  and 
lie  lived  among  them  as  friends.  In  the  middle 
of  the  last  century,  Germany  could  scarcely 
boast  of  possessing  a  national  literature;  her 
very  language,  reckoned  unfit  for  the  higher  pro- 
ductions of  genius,  was  banished  from  cultivated 
society  and  elegant  literature  :  at  the  beginning 
of  the  present,  there  were  few  departments  in 
which  Germany  could  not  vie  with  her  most  po- 
lished neighbours.  It  was  Weimar  that  took  the 
lead  in  working  out  this  great  change.  To  say 
nothing  of  lesser  worthies,  Wieland  and  Schiller, 
Gothe  and  Herder,  are  names  which  have  gain- 
ed immortality  for  themselves,  and  founded  the 
reputation  of  their  country  among  foreigners. 


68 


WEIMAR. 


While  they  were  still  all  alive,  and  celebrated  in 
Weimar,  their  noctes  ccenasque  deorum,  the  court 
was  a  revival  of  that  of  Ferrara  under  Alphon- 
so ;  and  here,  too,  as  there,  a  princely  female 
was  the  centre  round  which  the  lights  of  litera- 
ture revolved.  The  Duchess  Amalia,  the  mo- 
ther of  the  present  Grand  Duke,  found  herself 
a  widow  almost  at  the  opening  of  her  youth. 
She  devoted  herself  to  the  education  of  her  two 
infant  sons;  she  had  sufficient  taste  and  strength 
of  mind  to  throw  off  the  prejudices  which  were 
weighing  down  the  native  genius  of  the  country, 
and  she  sought  the  consolation  of  her  long 
widowhood  in  the  intercourse  of  men  of  talent, 
and  the  cultivation  of  the  arts.  Wieland  was 
invited  to  Weimar  to  conduct  the  education  of 
her  eldest  son,  who,  trained  under  such  a  tutor, 
and  by  the  example  of  such  a  mother,  early  im- 
bibed the  same  attachment  to  genius,  and  the 
enjoyments  which  it  affords.  If  he  could  not 
render  Weimar  the  seat  of  German  politics  or 
German  industry,  he  could  render  it  the  abode 
of  German  genius.  While  the  treasures  of  more 
weighty  potentates  were  insufficient  to  meet  the 
necessity  of  their  political  relations,  his  confined 


WEIMAR.  69 

revenues  could  give  independence  and  careless 
leisure  to  the  men  who  were  gaining  for  Ger- 
many its  intellectual  reputation.  The  cultivated 
understanding  and  natural  goodness  of  their  pro- 
tector secured  them  against  the  mortifications  to 
which  genius  is  so  often  exposed  by  the  pride  of 
patronage.  They  were  his  friends  and  compa- 
nions. Schiller  would  not  have  endured  the 
caprices  of  Frederick  for  a  day ;  Gothe  would 
have  pined  at  the  court  of  an  emperor  who  could 
publicly  tell  the  teachers  of  a  public  seminary, 
"  I  want  no  learned  men,  I  need  no  learned 
men,"  Napoleon  conferred  the  cross  of  the  Le- 
gion of  Honour  on  Gothe  and  Wieland.  He 
certainly  had  never  read  a  syllable  which  either 
of  them  has  written,  but  it  was,  at  least,  an  ho- 
nour paid  to  men  of  splendid  and  acknowledged 
genius. 

It  was  fortunate  for  Weimar,  that  the  talent 
assembled  within  it  took  a  direction  which  threw 
off,  at  once,  the  long  endured  reproach,  that 
Germany  could  produce  minds  only  fitted  to 
compile  dry  chronicles,  or  plod  on  in  the  scien- 
ces. The  wit  and  vanity  of  the  French,  aided 
by  the  melancholy  blindness  of  some  German 


70  WEIMAR. 

princes,  had  spread  this  belief  over  Europe.  It 
is  not  difficult  to  conceive  that  Voltaire  should 
have  treated  Germany  as  the  abode  of  common- 
place learning,  where  the  endless  repetition  of 
known  facts  or  old  doctrines,  in  new  compends, 
and  compilations,  seemed  to  argue  an  incapacity 
of  original  thinking ;  but  it  is  more  difficult  to 
conceive  that  a  monarch  like  Frederick,  who 
possessed  some  literary  talent  himself,  and  affect- 
ed a  devoted  attachment  to  literary  merit,  should 
have  adopted  so  mistaken  an  opinion  of  a  coun- 
try which  he  must  have  known  so  much  better 
than  his  Gallic  retinue.  Yet  he  had  taken  up 
this  belief  in  its  most  prejudiced  form.  Instead 
of  cherishing  the  German  genius  that  was  al- 
ready preparing  to  give  the  lie  to  the  wits  of 
France,  he  amused  himself  with  railing  at  her 
language,  laughing  at  ihegelehrte  Dunlcelheit,  or 
"  learned  obscurity""  of  her  learned  men,  and 
proscribing  from  his  conversation  and  his  library 
every  thing  that  was  not  French,  except  the  re- 
ports of  his  ministers,  and  the  muster-rolls  of  his 
army.  The  delirium  spread  fo  less  important 
princes,  and  caught  all  the  upper  ranks  of  society. 
The  native  genius  of  the  country,  scarcely  ven- 


WEIMAB.  71 

turing  to  claim  toleration,  wandered  forth  in  ex- 
ile to  the  mountains  of  Switzerland.  On  the 
banks  of  the  lake  of  Zurich,  where  a  small  so- 
ciety of  literati  had  assembled,  Wieland  follow- 
ed, unknown  and  unnoticed,  the  pursuits  that 
soon  placed  him  among  the  foremost  men  of  his 
age.  The  house  of  Baden  gave  its  countenance 
to  Klopstock,  and  Lessing  had  found  protection 
in  Brunswick  ;  but  it  was  Weimar  that  first  em- 
bodied, as  it  were,  the  genius  of  the  country, 
and  that  genius  speedily  announced  itself  in  a 
voice  that,  at  once,  recalled  Germany  from  her 
error.  The  Parisians,  who,  a  few  years  ago, 
would  have  reckoned  it  infidelity  to  the  muses  to 
open  a  German  book,  have  condescended  to 
translate  Schiller,  and  translate  him  almost  as 
successfully  as  they  do  Shakespeare  or  the  Scot- 
tish Novels.  How  truly  did  Schiller  sing  of  the 
muse  of  his  country,* 

For  her  bloomed  no  Augustan  age ; 
No  Medicean  patronage 

Smiled  on  her  natal  hour ; 
She  was  not  nursed  by  sounds  of  fame ; 
No  ray  of  princely  favour  came 

To  unfold  the  tender  flower. 

*  Die  Deutsche  Muse. 


7  WEIMAR. 

The  greatest  son  of  Germany, 
Even  Frederick,  bade  her  turn  away 

Unhonoured  from  his  throne  : 
Proudly  the  German  bard  can  tell, 
And  higher  may  his  bosom  swell, 

He  formed  himself  alone. 

Hence  the  proud  stream  of  German  song 
Still  rolls  in  mightier  waves  along, 

A  tide  for  ever  full ; 
From  native  stores  its  waters  bringing, 
Fresh  from  the  heart's  own  fountain  springing, 

Scoffs  at  the  yoke  of  rule. 

None  of  the  distinguished  leaders  of  the 
"  German  Athens"  belonged  to  the  Grand 
Duchy  itself.  Wieland  was  a  Swabian,  and  the 
increasing  body  of  literary  light  collected  round 
him  as  a  nucleus.  The  jealousies  of  rival  authors 
are  proverbial,  but  at  Weimar  they  seem  to  have 
been  unknown.  They  often  opposed  each  other, 
sometimes  reviewed  each  other's  books,  but  ad- 
mitted no  ungenerous  hostilities.  Wieland  re- 
joiced when  Gothe  and  Herder  were  invited  to 
be  his  companions,  although  both  were  vehement 
opponents  of  the  critical  principles  which  he  pro- 
mulgated in  the  German  Mercury.  Gothe  had 
even  written  a  biting  satire  against  him,  "  Gods, 


WIELAND.  73 

Heroes,  and  Wieland,"  which,  though  not  in- 
tended for  publication,  had,  nevertheless,  found 
its  way  into  the  world.  Gothe  himself  has  re- 
corded how  the  young  Duke  sought  him  out  in 
Frankfort.  Schiller  was  first  placed  in  a  chair 
at  Jena;  but  the  state  of  his  health,  which, 
though  it  could  not  damp  the  fire  of  his  genius, 
converted  his  latter  years  into  years  of  suffering, 
unfitted  him  for  professional  occupation,  and  he 
was  placed  in  independence  at  Weimar. 

Wieland,  the  patriarch  of  the  tribe,  seems 
likewise  to  have  been  the  most  enthusiastically 
beloved.  All  who  remember  him  speak  of  him 
with  rapture,  and  it  is  easy  to  conceive  that 
the  author  of  Oberon  and  of  Agathon,  and 
the  translator  of  Cicero's  Letters,  must  have 
been  a  delightful  combination  of  acuteness  [and 
wit,  no  ordinary  powers  of  original  thinking 
united  to  a  fancy  rich,  elegant,  and  playful. 
To  the  very  close  of  his  very  long  life,  he  con- 
tinued to  be  the  pride  of  the  old,  and  the  delight 
of  the  young.  Much  less  a  man  of  the  world 
than  Gothe,  he  commanded  equal  respect  and 
greater  attachment.  Gothe  has  been  accused 
of  a  too  jealous  sensibility  about  his  literary 

VOL.    I.  D 


74  WEIMAR. 

character,  and  a  constantly  sustained  authorial 
dignity,  which  have  exposed  him  to  the  imputa- 
tion of  being  vain  and  proud.  Wieland  gave 
himself  no  anxiety  about  his  reputation ;  except 
when  the  pen  was  in  his  hand,  he  forgot  there 
were  such  things  in  the  world  as  books  and  au- 
thors, and  strove  only  to  render  himself  an  agree- 
able companion.  The  young  people  of  the  court 
were  never  happier  than  when,  on  a  summer 
evening,  they  could  gather  round  "  Father  Wie- 
land" in  the  shades  of  Tiefurth,  or  the  garden  of 
his  own  little  country  residence.  Writers  of 
books  sometimes  misunderstood  the  man,  and 
talked  of  him  as  a  trifler,  because  he  did  not  al- 
ways look  like  a  folio  ;  Wieland  smiled  at  their 
absurdities.  Gothe,  too,  got  into  a  passion  with 
people  whose  visits  he  had  permitted,  and  who 
then  put  him  into  their  books,  not  altogether  in 
the  eulogistic  style  which  he  expects,  and,  more- 
over, deserves;  but,  instead  of  treating  such 
things  with  indifference,  he  made  himself  more 
inaccessible,  and  assumed  a  statelier  dignity. 

Poor  Schiller,  while  taking  the  lead  of  all  his 
competitors  in  the  race  of  immortality,  could  not 
keep  abreast  with  them  in  the  enjoyments  of  the 


SCHILLEB.  75 

world.  Tender  and  kindly  as  his  disposition 
was,  his  genius  sought  its  food  in  the  lofty  and 
impassioned.  In  his  lyrical  pieces,  he  seldom 
aimed  at  lightness,  and  mere  elegance  was  a  merit 
which  he  thoroughly  despised.  Continued  sick- 
liness  of  body  excluded  him,  in  a  great  measure, 
from  the  world,  and  the  closing  years  of  his  too 
short  life  were  spent  in  scarcely  remitting  agony. 
Yet  how  his  genius  burned  to  the  last  with  in- 
creasing warmth  and  splendour !  It  would  be 
too  much  to  say  that  he  lived  long  enough  for 
his  fame  ;  for,  though  he  gained  immortality,  his 
later  productions  rise  so  far  above  his  earlier 
worksi  that  he  assuredly  would  have  approached 
still  nearer  to  perfection. 

No  German  poet  deserves  better  to  be  known 
than  Schiller,  yet  his  most  successful  efforts  are 
least  generally  known  among  us.  His  merits 
are  by  no  means  confined  to  the  drama ;  whoever 
is  not  acquainted  with  Schiller's  Lyrical  Poems, 
is  ignorant  of  many  of  his  most  peculiar  and  in- 
imitable productions.  In  the  ballad,  he  aimed 
at  the  utmost  simplicity  of  feeling,  and  narra- 
tive, and  diction.  It  would  scarcely  be  too 
much  to  say  that,  in  this  style,  his  "  Knight 


76  WEIAIAK. 

Toggenburg"  has  no  equal ;  in  German  it  cer- 
tainly has  none.  Its  very  simplicity,  however, 
is  a  great  obstacle  in  the  way  of  translation  ;  for 
this  is  a  quality  which  is  apt,  in  passing  into 
another  language,  to  degenerate  into  what  is  tri- 
vial or  familiar. 

KNIGHT  TOGGENBURG. 

Knight,  to  love  thee  like  a  sister 

Swears  to  thee  this  heart ; 
Do  not  ask  a  fonder  passion, 

For  it  makes  me  smart. 
Tranquil  would  I  be  before  thee, 

Tranquil  see  thee  go  ; 
And  what  that  silent  tear  would  say 

I  must  not,  dare  not  know. 

He  tears  himself  away ;   the  heart 

In  silent  woe  must  bleed  ; 
A  fiery,  but  a  last  embrace ; 

He  springs  upon  his  steed. 
From  hill  and  dale  of  Switzerland 

He  calls  his  trusty  band  ; 
They  bind  the  cross  upon  the  breast, 

And  seek  the  Holy  Land. 

And  there  were  deeds  of  high  renown 

Wrought  by  the  hero's  arm ; 
Where  thickest  thronged  the  foemen  round, 

His  plume  waved  in  their  swarm  ; 


SCHILLER.  77 

Till,  at  the  Toggenburger's  name, 

The  Mussulman  would  start : 
But  nought  can  heal  the  hidden  wound, 

The  sickness  of  the  heart. 

A  year  he  bears  the  dreary  load 

Of  life  when  love  is  lost ; 
The  peace  he  chases  ever  flies  ; 

He  leaves  the  Christian  host. 
He  finds  a  bark  on  Joppa's  strand  ; 

Her  sail  already  fills ; 
It  bears  him  home  where  the  beloved 

Breathes  on  his  native  hills. 

The  love-worn  pilgrim  reached  her  hall ; 

Knocked  at  her  castle  gate ; 
Alas  !  it  opened  but  to  speak 

The  thunder  voice  of  fate  : 
"  She  whom  you  seek  now  wears  the  veil ; 

Her  troth  to  God  is  given  ; 
The  pomp  and  vow  of  yesterday 

Have  wedded  her  to  Heaven." 

Straight  to  the  castle  of  his  sires 

For  aye  he  bids  adieu ; 
He  sees  no  more  his  trusty  steed, 

Nor  blade  so  tried  and  true. 
Descending  from  the  Toggenburg, 

Unknown  he  seeks  the  vale ; 
For  sackcloth  wraps  his  lordly  limbs,     - 

Instead  of  knightly  mail. 


78  WEIMAR. 

Where  from  the  shade  of  dusky  limes 

Peeps  forth  the  convent  tower, 
He  chose  a  nigh  and  silent  spot, 

And  built  himself  a  bower. 
And  there,  from  morning's  earliest  dawn, 

Until  the  twilight  shone, 
With  silent  hope  within  his  eye, 

The  hermit  sat  alone. 

Up  to  the  convent  many  an  hour 

Gazed  patient  from  below, 
Up  to  the  lattice  of  his  love, 

Until  it  opened  slow  ; 
Till  the  dear  form  appeared  above, 

Till  she  he  loved  so  well, 
Placid  and  mild  as  angels  are, 

Looked  forth  upon  the  dell. 

Contented  then  he  laid  him  down  ; 

Blythe  dreams  came  to  his  rest ; 
He  knew  that  morn  would  dawn  again, 

And  in  the  thought  was  blest. 
Thus  many  a  day,  and  many  a  year, 

The  hermit  sat  and  hoped  j 
Nor  wept  a  tear,  nor  felt  a  pang, 

And  still  the  lattice  oped  ; 

And  the  dear  form  appeared  above, 

And  she  he  loved  so  well, 
Placid  and  mild  as  angels  are, 

Looked  forth  upon  the  delL 


SCHILLER.  79 

And  thus  he  sat,  a  stiffened  corpse, 
,    One  morn  as  day  returned, 
His  pale  and  placid  countenance 
Still  to  the  lattice  turned. 


Even  in  the  drama,  most  English  readers 
judge  of  Schiller  only  from  the  Robbers,  a  boy- 
ish production,  which  gave,  indeed,  distinct  pro- 
mise of  the  fruit  that  was  to  come,  but  is  no 
more  a  sample  of  Schiller,  than  Titus  Androni- 
cus  would  be  of  Shakespeare.  It  is  impossible 
to  form  any  idea  of  the  German  dramatist  with- 
out knowing  his  Don  Carlos,  Mary  Stuart,  the 
Bride  of  Messina,  and,  higher  than  them  all, 
Wallenstein.  It  was  an  unworthy  tribute  to 
living  genius,  to  select  Gothe's  Iphigenia  for 
the  opening  of  the  new  theatre  in  Berlin ;  for, 
high  and  multifarious  as  Gothe^s  merits  are, 
Schiller  will  always  remain  the  great  national 
dramatic  poet  of  Germany.  Before  his  time, 
her  tragic  muse  had  seldom  risen  above  damn- 
ing mediocrity ;  and  ages  will  probably  elapse 
before  another  appear  to  raise  her  to  the  same 
honours.  Whenever  a  tragedy  of  Schiller  was 
to  be  performed,  I  never  found  an  empty  thea*- 


80  WEIMAR. 

tre  in  any  corner  of  Germany.  Moreover,  on 
such  occasions,  the  theatre  is  not  crowded  with 
the  usual  regular  play-going  loungers,  who 
spend  a  couple  of  hours  in  a  box  because  they 
have  nothing  else  to  do  ;  the  audience  consists 
chiefly  of  respectable  citizens,  who  feel  much 
more  truly  what  nature  and  passion  are,  than 
the  ribboned  aristocracy  of  Berlin  or  Vien- 
na. Schiller  nursed  his  genius  by  studying 
Shakespeare ;  and  it  is  wonderful  how  little  an 
Englishman  regrets  Drury-Lane  or  Covent- 
Garden,  when  Madame  Schroder,  at  Vienna, 
plays  Lady  Macbeth  in  Schiller's  translation. 
We  cannot  be  surprised  that  Shakespeare  is  ad- 
mired ;  but  at  least  we  owe  our  gratitude  to  those 
who  have  introduced  him  to  a  people  more  able 
to  appreciate  his  excellence  than  any  other  ex- 
cept ourselves ;  and  that,  too,  in  a  dress  which, 
from  the  affinity  of  the  languages,  when  in  the 
hands  of  such  men  as  Wieland  and  Schiller, 
Schlegel  and  Voss,  impairs  so  little  the  original 
form.  Instead  of  sneering  at  the  German  dra- 
ma, we  should  be  inclined  in  its  favour,  by  the 
fact,  that  it  is  the  drama  of  a  people  which  wor- 
ships at  the  altar  of  our  unequalled  dramatist 


GOETHE.  81 

with  as  heart-felt  devotion  as  any  believer  among 
ourselves.  Shakespeare  would  seem  to  have  been 
bestowed  upon  us,  at  once  to  maintain  the  su- 
premacy of  our  country,  and  to  teach  us  humili- 
ty by  the  reflection,  that  it  was  given  to  no  other, 
even  among  ourselves,  to  follow  his  course  ; — a 
comet  hung  in  our  sky,  to  be  gazed  on,  and 
wondered  at  by  us  in  common  with  the  rest  of 
the  world,  but  as  far  beyond  our  reach,  though 
blazing  in  our  zenith,  as  to  those  who  only 
caught  his  more  distant  rays. 

Of  the  Weimar  sages  and  poets  Gothe  alone 
survives.  One  after  another,  he  has  sung  the 
dirge  over  Herder,  and  Wieland,  and  Schiller : 
"  his  tuneful  brethren  all  are  fled  ;"  but,  lonely 
as  he  now  is  in  the  world  of  genius,  it  could  be 
less  justly  said  of  him  than  of  any  other  man, 
that  he, 

neglected  and  oppressed, 
Wished  to  be  with  them  and  at  rest  ; 

for  no  living  author,  at  least  of  Germany,  can 
boast  of  so  long  and  brilliant  a  career.  At  once 
a  man  of  genius  and  a  man  of  the  world,  Gothe 
has  made  his  way  as  an  accomplished  courtier 


82  WEIMAR. 

no  less  than  as  a  great  poet.  He  has  spent  hi 
Weimar  more  than  one  half  of  his  prolific  life, 
the  object  of  enthusiastic  admiration  to  his  coun- 
trymen ;  honoured  by  sovereigns,  to  whom  his 
muse  has  never  been  deficient  in  respect ;  the 
friend  of  his  prince,  who  esteems  him  the  first 
man  on  earth ;  and  caressed  by  all  the  ladies  of 
Germany,  to  whose  reasonable  service  he  has  de- 
voted himself  from  his  youth  upwards.  It  is  only 
necessary  to  know  what  Gothe  still  is  in  his  easy 
and  friendly  moments,  to  conceive  how  justly  the 
universal  voice  describes  him  as  having  been  in 
person,  manners,  and  talent,  a  captivating  man. 
He  is  now  seventy-four  years  old,  yet  his  tall 
imposing  form  is  but  little  bent  by  years ;  the 
lofty  open  brow  retains  all  its  dignity,  and  even 
the  eye  has  not  lost  much  of  its  fire.  The  effects 
of  age  are  chiefly  perceptible  in  an  occasional  in- 
distinctness of  articulation.  Much  has  been  said 
of  the  jealousy  with  which  he  guards  his  literary 
reputation,  and  the  haughty  reserve  with  which 
this  jealousy  is  alleged  to  surround  his  inter- 
course. Those  who  felt  it  so  must  either  have 
been  persons  whose  own  reputation  rendered 
him  cautious  in  their  presence,  or  whose  doubt- 


GOETHE. 

ful  intentions  laid  him  under  still  more  unplea- 
sant restraints  ;  for  he  sometimes  shuts  his  door, 
and  often  his  mouth,  from  the  dread  of  being 
improperly  put  into  books.  His  conversation  is 
unaffected,  gentlemanly,  and  entertaining:  in 
the  neatness  and  point  of  his  expressions,  no  less 
than  in  his  works,  the  first  German  classic,  in  re- 
gard of  language,  is  easily  recognized.  He  has 
said  somewhere,  that  he  considered  himself  tohave 
acquired  only  one  talent,  that  of  writing  Ger- 
man. He  manifests  no  love  of  display,  and  least 
of  all  in  his  favourite  studies.  It  is  not  uncom- 
mon, indeed,  to  hear  people  say,  that  they  did 
not  find  in  Gothe's  conversation  any  striking 
proof  of  the  genius  which  animates  his  writings ; 
but  this  is  as  it  should  be.  There  are  few  more 
intolerable  personages  than  those  who,  having 
once  acquired  a  reputation  for  cleverness,  think 
themselves  bound  never  to  open  their  mouths 
without  saying  something  which  they  take  to  be 
smart  or  uncommon. 

The  approach  of  age,  and  certain  untoward 
circumstances  which  wounded  his  vanity,  have, 
at  length,  driven  Gothe  into  retirement.  He 
spends  the  winter  in  Weimar,  but  no  man  is  less 


84  WEIMAR. 

seen.  Buried  among  his  books  and  engravings, 
making  himself  master  of  everything  worth  read- 
ing in  German,  English,  French,  and  Italian, 
he  has  said  adieu  to  worldly  pleasures  and  gaie- 
ties, and  even  to  much  of  the  usual  intercourse 
of  society.  Not  long  ago,  he  attended  a  concert, 
given  at  court,  in  honour  of  a  birth-day.  He 
was  late :  when  he  entered  the  room  the  music 
instantly  ceased ;  all  forgot  court  and  princes  to 
gather  round  Gothe,  and  the  Grand  Duke  him- 
self advanced  to  lead  up  his  old  friend. 

For  nearly  five  years  he  has  deserted  the 
theatre,  which  used  to  be  the  scene  of  his  great- 
est glory.  By  the1  weight  of  his  reputation  and 
directorship,  he  had  established  such  a  des- 
potism, that  the  spectators  would  have  deemed 
it  treason  to  applaud  before  Gothe  had  given, 
from  his  box,  the  signal  of  approbation.  Yet  a 
dog  and  a  woman  could  drive  him  from  the  thea- 
tre and  the  world.  Most  people  know  the  French 
melodrame,  The  Forest  of  Bondy,  or  the  Dog  of 
St  Aubry.  The  piece  became  a  temporary  fa- 
vourite in  Germany,  as  well  as  in  France,  for  it 
was  something  new  to  see  a  mastiff  play  the 
part  of  a  tragic  hero.  An  attempt  was  made  to 


GOETHK.  85 

have  it  represented  in  Weimar.  Gothe,  who, 
after  the  death  of  Schiller,  reigned  absolute  mo- 
narch of  the  theatre,  resisted  the  design  with 
vehemence  ;  he  esteemed  it  a  profanation  of  the 
stage  which  he  and  his  brethren  had  raised  to 
the  rank  of  the  purest  in  Germany,  that  it  should 
be  polluted  by  dumb  men,  noisy  spectacle,  and 
the  barkings  of  a  mastiff,  taught  to  pull  a  bell 
by  tying  a  sausage  to  the  bell- rope.  But  his  op- 
position was  in  vain  ;  the  principal  actress  insist- 
ed that  the  piece  should  be  performed,  and  this 
lady  has  long  possessed  peculiar  sources  of  influ- 
ence over  the  Grand  Duke.  The  dog  made  his 
debut  and  Gothe  his  exit ;  the  latter  immediate- 
ly resigned  the  direction  of  the  theatre,  which  he 
has  never  since  entered,  and  took  advantage  of 
this  good  pretext  to  withdraw  into  the  more  re- 
tired life  which  he  has  since  led.  * 

*  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the  lines  in  Schiller's 
Epistle  to  Gothe, 

Der  Schein  soil  nie  die  Wirklichkeit  erreichen, 
Und  siegt  natur,  so  muss  die  Kunst  entweichen  ; 
were  parodied : 

Dem  Hundestall  soil  nie  die  Biihne  gleicheri, 
Und  komrat  der  Pudel,  muss  der  Dichter  weichen. 


86  WEIMAR. 

At  Jena,  where  he  generally  spends  the  sum:- 
mer  and  autumn,  he  mixes  more  with  the  world  ; 
and  he  occasionally  indulges  in  a  month's  recrea- 
tion atToplitz  or  Carlsbad,  where,  among  princes 
and  nobles,  he  is  still  the  great  object  of  public 
curiosity.  Among  the  erudite  professors  of  Jena, 
there  are  more  than  one  who  do  not  seem  to  en- 
tertain much  respect  for  him,  and  have  written 
and  done  mortifying  things  against  him.  One 
of  the  few  clouds,  for  example,  which  have  pas- 
sed over  the  sky  of  his  literary  life,  was  an  arti- 
cle in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  some  years  ago, 
on  his  memoirs  of  himself.  It  vexed  him  ex- 
ceedingly; but  the  most  vexatious  thing  of  all 
was,  that  one  of  his  enemies  at  Jena  immediately 
translated  it  into  German,  and  circulated  it  with 
malicious  industry. 

Gothe  stands  pre-eminent  above  all  his  coun- 
trymen in  versatility  and  universality  of  genius. 
There  are  few  departments  which  he  has  not  at- 
tempted, and  in  many  he  has  gained  the  first 
honours.  There  is  no  mode  of  the  lyre  through 
which  he  has  not  run,  song,  epigram,  ode,  elegy, 
ballad,  opera,  comedy,  tragedy,  the  lofty  epic, 
and  that  anomalous  production  of  the  German, 


GOETHE.  87 

Parnassus,  the  civil  epic,  (Biirgerliche  Epos) 
•which,  forsaking  the  deeds  of  heroes  and  the  fates 
of  nations,  sings  in  sounding  hexameters  the 
simple  lives  and  loves  of  citizens  and  farmers. 
Yet  the  muses  have  been  far  from  monopolizing 
the  talents  of  this  indefatigable  man ;  as  they 
were  the  first  love,  so  they  are  still  the  favourites 
of  his  genius  ;  but  he  has  coquetted  with  num- 
berless rivals,  and  mineralogy,  criticism  on  the 
fine  arts,  biography  and  topography,  sentimen- 
tal and  philosophical  novels,  optics  and  compa- 
rative anatomy,  have  all  employed  his  pen.  His 
lucubrations  in  the  sciences  have  not  command- 
ed either  notice  or  admiration  ;  to  write  well  on 
every  thing,  it  is  not  enough  to  take  an  interest 
in  every  thing.  It  is  in  the  fine  arts,  in  poetry 
as  an  artist,  in  painting  and  sculpture  as  a  critic, 
that  Gothe  justifies  the  fame  which  he  has  been 
accumulating  for  nearly  fifty  years  ;  for  his  pro- 
ductions in  this  department  contain  an  assem- 
blage of  dissimilar  excellencies  which  none  of 
his  countrymen  can  produce,  though  individu- 
ally they  might  be  equalled  or  surpassed.  Faust 
.  alone,  a  poem,  which  only  a  German  can  tho- 
roughly feel  or  understand,  is  manifestly  the 


88  WEIMAR. 

production  of  a  genius,  quite  at  home  in  every 
thing  with  which  poetry  deals,  and  master  of  all 
the  styles  which  poetry  can  adopt.  Tasso  deserves 
the  name  of  a  drama,  only  because  it  is  in  dia- 
logue, and  it  becomes  intolerably  tiresome  when 
declaimed  by  actors  ;  but  it  is  from  beginning  to 
end  a  stream  of  the  richest  and  purest  poetry. 
It  is  an  old  story,  that  his  first  celebrated  work, 
Werther,  turned  the  heads  of  all  Germany  ; 
young  men  held  themselves  bound  to  fall  in  love 
with  the  wives  of  their  friends,  and  then  blow 
out  their  own  brains  ;  it  is  averred,  that  consum- 
mations of  this  sort  actually  took  place.  The 
public  admiration  of  the  young  author,  who 
could  paint  with  such  force,  was  still  warm,  when 
he  gave  them  that  most  spirited  sketch,  Gotz  of 
Berlichingen  with  the  Iron  Hand,  a  picture  of 
the  feudal  manners  of  their  forefathers.  The 
reading  and  writing  world  immediately  threw 
themselves  into  this  new  channel,  and  Ger- 
man presses  and  German  stages  groaned  beneath 
the  knights,  the  abbots,  the  battles,  and  the 
banquets  of  the  fifteenth  century.  Like  every  man 
of  original  genius,  he  had  novelty  in  his  favour, 

and,  like  every  successful  adventurer  in  what  is 

10 


GOETHE.  89 

new,  he  was  followed  by  a  host  of  worthless  imi- 
tators and  insipid  mannerists. 

The  regular  novels  of  Gothe  are  of  a  very 
questionable  sort.  The  vivacity  of  his  imagina- 
tion and  fineness  of  feeling  supply  good  indivi- 
dual pictures  and  acute  remarks  ;  but  they  can- 
not be  praised  either  for  incident  or  character. 
They  are  often  stained,  too>  with  the  degradation 
to  which  he  unfortunately  reduces  love,  where 
liking  and  vice  follow  fast  upon  each  other. 
"  The  Apprenticeship  of  William  Meister,"  for 
instance,  is  a  very  readable  book,  in  so  far  as  it 
contains  a  great  deal  of  acute  and  eloquent  criti- 
cism ;  but  who  would  purchase  the  criticism,  even 
of  Gothe,  at  the  expence  of  the  licentiousness 
of  incident  and  pruriency  of  description,  with 
which  the  book  teems  ?  He  now  devotes  him- 
self chiefly  to  philosophical  and  critical  disquisi- 
tions on  the  fine  arts. 

It  is  scarcely  possible  for  a  man  who  has  writ- 
ten so  much,  not  to  have  written  much  that  is 
mediocre.  Gothe,  having  long  since  reached  that 
point  of  reputation  at  which  the  name  of  an  au- 
thor is  identified,  in  the  eyes  of  his  countrymen, 
with  the  excellence  of  his  work,  has  been  fre- 


90  WEIMAR. 

quently  overrated,  and  men  are  not  awanting 
who  augur  that  the  best  of  his  fame  is  past. 
But  he  can  well  afford  to  make  many  allowances 
for  the  excesses  into  which  popular  enthusiasm, 
like  popular  dislike,  is  so  easily  misled ;  for  there 
will  always  remain  an  abundance  of  original, 
and  varied,  and  powerful  genius  to  unite  his 
name  forever  with  the  literature  of  his  country. 
He  himself  said  truly  of  Schiller,  that  where 
the  present  age  had  been  deficient,  posterity 
would  be  profuse  ;  and  the  prophecy  is  already 
receiving  its  fulfilment.  To  Gothe  the  present 
has  been  lavish,  and  the  future  will  not  be  un- 
just. From  his  youth,  he  has  been  the  favour- 
ite of  fortune  and  fame ;  he  has  reached  the 
brink  of  the  grave,  hailed  by  the  voice  of  his 
country  as  the  foremost  of  her  great,  the  patri- 
arch of  her  literature,  and  the  model  of  her  ge- 
nius. In  his  old  age,  wrapped  up  in  the  seclu- 
sion of  Weimar  so  becoming  his  years  and  so 
congenial  to  his  habits,  he  hears  no  sounds  but 
those  of  eulogy  and  affection.  Like  an  eastern 
potentate,  or  a  jealous  deity,  he  looks  abroad 
from  his  retirement  on  the  intellectual  world 
which  he  has  formed  by  his  precept  or  his  ex- 


THE  STAGE.  91 

ample;  he  pronounces  the  oracular  doom,  or 
sends  forth  a  revelation,  and  men  wait  on  him  to 
venerate  and  obey.  Princes  are.  proud  to  be  his 
companions ;  less  elevated  men  approach  him 
with  awe,  as  a  higher  spirit  ;  and  when  Gothe 
shall  follow  the  kindred  minds  whom  he  has 
seen  pass  away  before  him,  Weimar  will  have 
lost  the  last  pillar  of  her  fame,  and  in  the  litera- 
ture of  Germany  there  will  be  a  vacant  throne. 

Since  the  mastiff,  backed  by  the  influence  of 
Madame  J n,  drove  Gothe  from  the  di- 
rection of  the  theatre,  it  has  been  rapidly  de- 
clining from  its  eminence.  He  and  Schiller  had 
trained  the  whole  corps  dramatiquet  and  created 
that  chaste,  correct  style  of  representation  which 
formed  the  peculiarity  of  the  Weimar  School. 
Every  thing  like  rant  disappeared  from  the 
stage,  but  the  opposite  extreme  was  not  always 
avoided  ;  anxiety  to  observe  the  great  rule  of  not 
"  overstepping  the  modesty  of  nature,"  some- 
times brought  down  tragedy  to  the  subdued  tone 
and  gesture  of  serious  conversation.  The  pa- 
tience with  which  he  drilled  theperformers  into  a 
thorough  comprehension  of  their  parts  was  most 
meritorious ;  it  produced  that  accurate  conception 


92  WEIMAR. 

of  character,  the  foundation  of  all  histrionic  ex- 
cellence, which  distinguished  the  stage  of  Wei- 
mar above  every  other  in  Germany,  and  which, 
now  that  the  guiding  hand  and  spirit  have  been 
withdrawn,  is  disappearing  even  there.  It  was  a 
common  saying,  that  elsewhere  particular  things 
might  be  better  done,  but  in  Weimar  every 
thing  was  well  done.  The  administration  passed 

into  the  hands  of  Madame  J n,  who,   now 

reigning  absolutely  in  the  green-room,  has  al- 
ready contrived  by  pride,  and  vanity,  and  ca- 
price, to  sow  abundantly  the  seeds  both  of  dete- 
rioration and  contention.  Bad  taste  in  selecting, 
want  of  judgment  in  casting,  and  carelessness  in 
performing,  are  become  as  common  in  Weimar 
as  any  where  else.  People  are  not  blind  to  the 
progress  of  the  corruption,  but  the  predominat- 
ing influence  stands  on  that  foundation  which  it 
is  most  difficult  to  shake ;  and,  unfortunately,  no 
expression  of  displeasure  is  allowed  in  the  thea- 
tre itself:  it  is  regarded  as  a  private  court 
theatre,  where  good  breeding  permits  only  ap- 
probation or  silence.  If  a  prince  maintain  a 
place  of  amusement  for  the  public  at  his  own  ex- 
pence,  he  may  have  some  pretext  for  saying, 


THE  STAGE.  93 

that  you  shall  either  stay  away,  or  be  quiet ;  but 
when  he  takes  your  money  at  the  door,  he  cer- 
tainly sells  you  the  right  of  growling  at  the  en- 
tertainment, if  it  be  badly  cooked,  or  slovenly 
served  up.  The  liberty  _of  hissing  is  as  essential 
to  the  good  constitution  of  a  theatre,  as  the  li- 
berty of  the  press  to  the  constitution  of  a  state. 
Three -fourths  of  all  the  expences,  however,  come 
out  of  the  pocket  of  the  Grand  Duke ;  for,  to 
the  abonnes,  a  place  in  the  boxes  costs  only  nine- 
pence  every  evening,  and  in  the  pit  fourpence. 
Spectators  who  are  not  abonnes  pay  more  than 
double  this  price ;  but  these  consist  only  of  occa- 
sional strangers,  and  the  students  who  pour  over 
every  Saturday  from  Jena,  and  throng  the  pit. 
These  young  men  have,  in  such  matters,  a 
thorough  contempt  for  meum  and  tuum ,•  with 
them  it  is  always  abonnement  suspendu.  They 
cannot  imagine  that  any  man  should  have  the 
impertinence  to  claim  his  place,  if  a  student  has 
chosen  to  occupy  it ;  and  they  are  ready  to 
maintain,  at  the  point  of  the  sword,  the  privileg- 
es of  their  brotherhood.  Schiller's  Robbers  never 
fails  to  bring  the  whole  university  to  Weimar, 
for  they  seem  to  find  in  the  bandit  life  some- 


94  WEIMAR. 

thing  peculiarly  consonant  to  their  own  ideas  of 
liberty  and  independence.  When  the  robbers 
open  the  fifth  act  with  the  song  in  which  they 
celebrate  the  joys  of  their  occupation,  the  stu- 
dents stand  up  in  a  body,  and  join  vociferously 
in  the  strain. 

It  may  easily  be  thought  trifling  to  say  so  much 
about  a  theatre ;  but  the  only  thing  that  gives 
Weimar  a  name  is  its  literary  reputation  ;  in  this 
reputation  the  character  of  the  stage  formed  a 
popular  and  important  element,  and  exercised  a 
weighty  influence  on  the  public  taste.  It  is, 
likewise,  almost  the  only  amusement  to  which 
the  inhabitants  of  this  celebrated  village  have 
accustomed  themselves.  Thus  their  vanity  is 
interested  no  less  than  their  love  of  amusement ; 
and,  though  it  may  scarcely  be  thought  advis- 
able, in  so  poor  a  country,  to  take  a  large  sum 
from  the  public  revenues  to  support  a  theatre, 
there  is  no  braneh  of  expenditure  which  the  in- 
habitants would  less  willingly  see  curtailed. 
They  are  irritated,  therefore,  that  the  influence 
of  the  queen  of  the  boards  with  their  master 
should  act  so  injuriously  in  the  histrionic  repub- 
lic ;  they  had  no  fault  to  find  with  his  gallantry 
4 


MANNERS.  95 

so  long  as  it  did  not  violate  the  muses.  Let 
not  this  be  ascribed  to  any  general  want  of  moral 
sensibility.  We  have  no  very  favourable  idea  of 
German  morality,  and,  in  the  larger  capitals, 
particularly  those  of  the  South,  there  certainly 
is  no  reason  why  we  should ;  but  Weimar  is  a 
spot  of  as  pure  morality  as  any  in  Europe.  At 
Munich  or  Vienna,  corrumpere  et  corrumpi  sae- 
culum  vocatur;  but  the  infection  has  not  reach- 
ed these  Thuringians.  It  is  as  surprising  to 
find  in  Weimar  so  pure  a  court,  round  a  prince 
who  has  shown  himself  not  to  be  without  human 
frailties,  as  it  is  to  find  in  Vienna  a  society  made 
up  of  the  most  unprincipled  dissoluteness,  round 
an  emperor  who  is,  himself,  one  of  the  purest 
men  alive. 

Like  all  their  sisters  of  Saxony,  the  ladies  are 
models  of  industry ;  whether  at  home  or  abroad, 
knitting  and  needle-work  know  no  interruption. 
A  lady,  going  to  a  rout,  would  think  little 
of  forgetting  her  fan,  but  could  not  spend  half 
an  hour  without  her  implements  of  female  in- 
dustry. A  man  would  be  quite  pardonable  for 
doubting,  on  entering  such  a  drawing-room, 
whether  he  had  not  strayed  into  a  school  of  in- 


96  WEIMAR. 

dustry,  and  whether  he  was  not  expected  to 
cheapen  stockings,  instead  of  dealing  in  small 
talk.  At  Dresden  it  is  carried  so  far,  that  even 
the  theatre  is  not  protected  against  stocking 
wires.  I  have  seen  a  lady  gravely  lay  down  her 
work,  wipe  away  the  tears  which  the  sorrows  of 
Theklain  Wallenstem's  Death  had  brought  into 
her  eyes,  and  immediately  reassume  her  knit- 
ting. The  Weimarese  have  not  yet  found  it 
necessary  to  put  softness  of  heart  so  abso- 
lutely under  the  protection  of  the  workbag. 
They  are  much  more  attached  to  music  than 
dancing,  and  sometimes  a  desperate  struggle  is 
made  to  get  up  a  masquerade;  but  they  want 
the  vivacity  without  which  a  thing  of  that  sort 
is  the  most  insipid  of  all  amusements.  The 
higher  class  leave  the  masquerades  to  the  ci- 
tizens, who  demurely  pace  round  a  room,  in 
black  dominos,  and  stare  at  each  other  in  black 
faces. 

As  might  be  expected  from  the  literary  tone 
which  so  long  ruled,  and  still  lingers  round  the 
court  and  society  of  Weimar,  even  the  ladies  have 
not  altogether  escaped  a  sprinkling  of  pedantry  ; 
some  have  been  thickly  powdered  over  with  it, 


THE  GRAND  DUCHESS.  97 

and,  in  so  small  a  circle,  shake  off  their  learned 
dust  on  all  whom  they  jostle.  One  coterie 
forms  a  regular  critical  club.  The  gifted  mem- 
bers, varying  in  age  from  sixteen  to  sixty,  hold 
their  weekly  meetings  over  tea-cups,  wrapped 
up  in  as  cautious  secrecy  as  if  celebrating  the 
mysteries  of  the  BonaDea.  A  daring  Clodiusonce 
intruded,  and  witnessed  the  dissection  of  a  trage- 
dy ;  but  he  had  reason  to  repent  the  folly  of  being 
wise  so  long  as  he  remained  within  the  reach  of 
the  conclave.  But  altogether,  the  ladies  of 
Weimar  are,  in  every  thing  that  is  good,  a  fa- 
vourable specimen  of  their  countrywomen. 

The  serious  pursuits  and  undeviating  pro- 
priety of  conduct  of  the  Grand  Duchess  herself, 
have  had  a  large  share  in  thus  forming  the  man- 
ners of  her  court  and  subjects.  Her  Royal 
Highness  is  a  princess  of  the  house  of  Darm- 
stadt ;  she  is  now  venerable  by  her  years,  but 
still  more  by  the  excellence  of  her  heart,  and  the 
strength  of  her  character.  In  these  little  prin- 
cipalities, the  same  goodness  of  disposition  can 
work  with  more  proportional  effect  than  if  it 
swayed  the  sceptre  of  an  empire ;  it  comes  more 
easily  and  directly  into  contact  with  those  to- 

VOL.  I.  E 


98  WEIMAR. 

wards  whom  it  should  be  directed  ;  the  artificial 
world  of  courtly  rank  and  wealth  has  neither  suf- 
ficient glare  nor  body  to  shut  out  from  the  prince 
die  more  checquered  world  that  lies  below.  After 
the  battle  of  Jena,  which  was  fought  within  ten 
miles  of  the  walls,  Weimar  looked  to  her  alone  for 
advice  and  protection.  Her  husband  and  younger 
son  were  absent  with  the  fragments  of  the  defeat- 
ed army  ;  the  French  troops  were  let  loose  on  the 
territory  and  capital ;  the  flying  peasantry  al- 
ready bore  testimony  to  the  outrages  which  are  in- 
separable from  the  presence  of  brutal  and  inso-' 
lent  conquerors.  The  hope  that  she  might  be 
useful  to  the  people  in  this  hour  of  trial,  when  it 
was  only  to  her  they  could  look,  prevailed  over 
the  apprehensions  of  personal  insult  and  danger  ; 
she  calmly  awaited  in  Weimar  the  approach  of 
the  French,  collected  round  her  in  the  palace  the 
greater  part  of  the  women  and  children  who  had 
not  fled,  and  shared  with  them  herself  the  coarse 
and  scanty  food  which  she  was  able  to  distribute 
among  them.  The  Emperor,  on  his  arrival, 
took  up  his  abode  in  the  palace,  and  the  Grand 
Duchess  immediately  requested  an  interview 
with  him.  His  first  words  to  her  were,  "  Ma- 


THE  GRAND  DUCHESS.  99 

dam,  I  make  you  a  present  of  this  palace  ;"  and 
forthwith  he  broke  out  into  the  same  strain  of 
invective  against  Prussia  and  her  Allies,  and 
sneers  at  the  folly  of  endeavouring  to  resist  him- 
self, which  he  soon  afterwards  launched  against  the 
unfortunate  Louisa  at  Tilsit.  He  said  more 
than  once  with  great  vehemence,  "  On  dit  que 
Je  veux  etre  Empereur  de  Touest ;  et"  stamping 
with  his  foot,  "  je  le  serai,  Madame.'"''  He  was 
confounded  at  the  firm  and  dignified  tone  in 
which  the  Grand  Duchess  met  him.  She  neither 
palliated  her  husband's  political  conduct,  nor 
supplicated  for  mercy  in  his  political  misfor- 
tunes. Political  integrity,  as  a  faithful  ally  of 
Prussia,  had,  she  told  him,  dictated  the  one,  and, 
if  he  had  any  regard  for  political  principle  and 
fidelity  to  alliances  in  a  monarch,  he  could  not 
take  advantage  of  the  other.  The  interview  was 
a  long  one;  the  imperial  officers  in  waiting 
could  not  imagine  how  a  man,  who  reckoned 
time  thrown  away  even  on  the  young  and  beau- 
tiful of  the  sex,  could  spend  so  much  with  a 
princess  whose  qualifications  were  more  of  a 
moral  and  intellectual  nature.  But  from  that 
moment,  Napoleon  treated  the  family  of  Wei- 


100  WE  I  MAE. 

mar  with  a  degree  of  respect  and  consideration, 
which  the  more  powerful  of  his  satellites  did  not 
experience.  He  used  to  say,  that  the  Grand 
Duke  was  the  only  sovereign  in  Germany  who 
could  be  intrusted  with  the  command  of  a  score 
of  men ;  and  he  uniformly  displayed  for  the 
Grand  Duchess  a  very  marked  esteem.  He  even 
affected  to  do  homage  to  the  literary  reputation 
of  the  town,  and  showered  honours  on  the  poets 
of  Weimar,  while  he  was  suppressing  universi- 
ties. The  last  time  he  was  in  Weimar  was  be- 
fore he  led  up  his  troops  to  the  battle  of  Lutzen. 
When  he  learned  that  part  of  the  contingent  of 
Weimar,  as  a  member  of  the  Confederation  of 
the  Rhine,  had  joined  the  Allies,  he  only  said 
smiling,  "  Cest  la  petite  Yorkiade"  He  re- 
quested the  honour  of  a  glass  of  Malaga  from 
the  hand  of  the  Grand  Duchess  herself,  observing 
that  he  was  getting  old ;  and,  accompanied  by 
the  Grand  Duke,  and  his  second  son,  Prince  Ber- 
nard, rode  off  to  attack  the  enemy  at  Lutzen. 

From  this  moment,  till  the  thunder-clouds 
which  collected  at  Leipzig  had  rolled  themselves 
beyond  the  Rhine,  this  tranquil  abode  of  the 
muses  witnessed  nothing  but  the  horrors  of  war 


THE   WAR.  101 

in  all  their  merciless  perfection.  That  three 
such  armies,  as  those  of  France,  Russia,  and  Au- 
stria, were  let  loose  on  the  exhausted  land,  in- 
cludes in  itself  the  idea  of  every  possible  misery 
and  crime  ;  but  it  was  lamentable,  that  as  much 
should  be  suffered  from  the  declared  liberators 
as  from  the  real  oppressor  of  Germany.  The 
Russians  fairly  deserved  the  name  which  the 
wits  of  the  north  bestowed  upon  them,  of  being 
Germany's  Rettungsbestien,  or,  Brutes  of  Salva- 
tion ;  but  the  Austrians  far  outstripped  them  in 
atrocity,  and  fired  the  villages,  amid  shouts  of 
"  Burn  the  hearts  out  of  the  Saxon  dogs.1''  There 
is  something  exquisitely  absurd  in  an  Austrian 
imagining,  that  any  people  of  Germany  can  pos- 
sibly sink  so  low  as  to  be  inferior  to  his  own. 
That  dreadful  period  has,  in  some  measure,  al- 
tered the  character  of  these  artless,  kindly 
people;  you  can  scarcely  enter  a  cottage,  that 
does  not  ring  with  dreadful  tales  out  of  these 
days  of  horror.  Old  village  stories  of  witches  on 
the  Hartz,  and  legends  of  Number  Nip  from  the 
mountains  of  Silesia,  have  given  place  to  village 
records  of  individual  misfortune,  produced  by 
worse  spirits  than  ever  assembled  on  the  Brocken, 


102  WEIMAR. 

or  obeyed  Rubezahl,  in  the  clefts  of  the  Schriee- 
koppe. 

It  was  precisely  by  its  sympathy,  its  active 
humanity,  and  self-denial  amid  these  horrors, 
that  the  reigning  family  fixed  itself  so  deeply  in 
the  affections  of  the  people.  Every  source  of 
courtly  expence  was  limited,  or  cut  off,  to  meet 
the  miseries  of  the  ruined  peasantry,  and  rebuild 
the  villages  which  had  been  laid  in  ashes.  In 
the  short  space  of  a  month,  the  murders  of  the 
soldiery,  and  epidemic  disease,  produced  by  liv- 
ing in  filth  and  starvation  among  the  ruins  of  the 
villages,  threw  five  hundred  orphans  on  the 
country.  Nine  were  found  out  of  one  family, 
without  a  rag  to  defend  them  against  the  chill- 
ing.damps  of  an  autumn  night,  cowering  round 
the  embers  of  their  burned  cottage,  watching  by 
the  corpses  of  their  father  and  mother.  The 
ducal  family,  assisted  by  a  share  of  the  money 
which  was  raised  in  this  country  for  the  suffer- 
ing Germans,  adopted  these  orphans.  They 
have  all  been  educated  in  Weimar,  instructed  in 
a  profession,  and  put  in  the  way  of  exercising  it. 
In  the  summer  of  3821,  they  finished  a  small 
chapel,  dedicated  to  the  Providence  that  had  led 


LITERATURE. 

their  childhood  safe  through  so  much  misfortune, 
of  which  not  only  the  walls,  but  all  the  furni- 
ture and  ornaments,  are  the  work  of  their  own 
hands,  each  in  the  profession  to  which  he  was 
educated. 

It  is  almost  a  consequence  of  the  literary  cha- 
racter of  Weimar,  that  nowhere  on  the  continent 
is  English  more  studiously  cultivated.  Byron 
and  Scott  are  as  much  read,  as  well  understood, 
and  as  fairly  j  udged  of  by  the  Germans  as  among 
ourselves  ;  they  have  not  merely  one,  but  several 
translations  of  the  best  of  the  Scottish  Novels. 
The  Grand  Duke  himself  reads  a  great  deal  of 
English.  Besides  his  own  private  collection,  the 
well-stored  public  library,  which  is  thrown  open 
for  the  use  of  every  body,  contains  all  our  cele- 
brated writers.  What  a  change  in  the  course  of 
half  a  century  !  The  library  of  Frederick  still 
stands  in  Sans  Souci,  as  he  left  it  at  his  death, 
and  does  not  contain  a  volume  but  what  is  French. 
In  Dr  Froriep's  room,  at  the  Industrie-  Comp- 
toir,  *  one  could  imagine  himself  lounging  in 


*  This  Industrie-Comptoir  is   an  establishment  found- 
ed by  the  late  Mr  Bertuch,  under  the  protection  of  the 


104  WK1MAR. 

Albemarle  Street,  instead  of  being  in  a  retired 
corner  of  Saxony  ;  the  newspapers,  the  reviews, 
the  philosophical  periodicals,  are  scattered  about 
in  all  their  variety,  together  with  all  the  new 
books  that  are  worth  reading,  and  a  great  many 
that  are  not. 

Gothe,  too,  is  fond  of  English  reading,  and 
whatever  Gothe  is  fond  of  must  be  fashionable 
in  Weimar.  He  is  an  idolater  of  Byron,  though 
he  holds  that  his  Lordship  has  stolen  various 
good  things  from  him.  Don  Juan  seems  to  be 
his  favourite,  but  the  paper  and  type  really  ap- 
peared to  have  no  small  share  in  the  admiration 
with  which  he  spoke  of  the  work.  Few  things  as- 
tonish the  Germans  more  than  our  typographical 
luxury;  the  port  of  London  would  not  give 

Grand  Duke,  for  printing  and  engraving,  and  it  has  al- 
ready become  one  of  the  most  important  in  Germany. 
Nearly  three  hundred  persons  are  occupied  in  printing 
books,  engraving  maps  and  drawings,  partly  in  copper, 
partly  on  stone,  and  constructing  globes.  The  printing 
department  is  peculiarly  active  in  the  dissemination  of 
foreign,  particularly  English,  literature,  by  reprints  and 
translations  ;  for  Mr  Bertuch  was  a  scholar  and  a  man  of 
talent,  and  so  is  his  relation  and  successor,  Dr  Froriep. 


AMUSEMENTS.  105 

them  a  higher  idea  of  our  national  wealth  than 
our  ordinary  style  of  printing,  joined  to  the  fact 
that,  notwithstanding  its  costliness,  a  greater 
quantity  of  books  is  devoured  by  our  population 
than  by  any  other  in  Europe.  They  are  them- 
selves very  far  behind  in  printing,  partly  because 
the  cheapness  of  a  book  is  essential  to  its  sale, 
partly  because  they  have  introduced  few  improve- 
ments in  an  art  which  they  invented.  A  negotia- 
tion with  a  Berlin  publisher,  for  printing  a  trans- 
lation of  Playfair's  Chronology,  was  broken  off, 
because  "  paper  could  not  be  found  large 
enough  for  the  tables."  Dr  Milliner  was  as- 
tonished to  find  it  stated  in  a  magazine,  that  the 
few  copies  of  Mr  Gillies's  version  of  the  Schuld, 
which  had  been  thrown  off  for  the  author's 
friends,  were  elegantly  printed :  "  for,"  said  he, 
"  with  us,  on  such  an  occasion,  it  is  quite  the  re- 
verse." 

Though  there  are  carriages  in  Weimar,  its 
little  fashionable  world  makes  no  show  in  the 
ring ;  but,  so  soon  as  winter  has  furnished  a  suffi- 
cient quantity  of  snow,  they  indemnify  them- 
selves by  bringing  forth  their  sledges.  They 
are  fond  of  this  amusement,  but  are  not  suffi- 


106  WEIMAR. 

ciently  far  north  to  enjoy  it  in  any  perfection, 
or  for  any  length  of  time.  The  sledges  would 
be  handsome,  were  not  their  pretensions  to  beau- 
ty frequently  injured  by  the  gaudy  colours  with 
which  they  are  bedaubed.  By  the  laws  of  sledge- 
driving,  every  gentleman  is  entitled,  at  the  ter- 
mination of  the  excursion,  to  salute  his  partner, 
as  a  reward  for  having  been  an  expert  Jehu  ;  and, 
if  once  in  the  line,  it  is  not  easy  to  drive  badly. 
The  whqlly  unpractised,  or  very  apprehensive, 
plant  a  more  skilful  servant  on  the  projecting 
spars  behind  ;  he  manages  the  horses,  while  his 
principal,  freed  of  the  trouble,  tenaciously  retains 
its  recompence.  The  long  line  of  glitter- 
ing carriages,  the  gay  trappings  of  the  horses, 
the  sound  of  the  bells  with  which  they  are  cov- 
ered, and,  except  this  not  unpleasant  tinkling, 
the  noiseless  rapidity  with  which  the  train  glides 
through  a  clear  frosty  morning,  like  a  fairy  caval- 
cade skimming  along  the  earth,  form  a  cheering 
and  picturesque  scene. 

Few  things  would  raise  the  wrath  of  an  Eng- 
lish sportsman  more  than  a  German  hare-hunt, 
except,  perhaps,  a  Hungarian  stag-hunt,  for  the 
game  is  cut  off  from  every  chance  of  escape  be- 

4 


AMUSEMENTS.  107 

fore  the  attack  is  made.  The  Grand  Duke  of 
Weimar  is  an  enthusiastic  sportsman  himself, 
and,  when  he  takes  his  gun,  every  respectable 
person  may  do  the  same,  and  join  his  train.  Pea- 
sants are  used  instead  of  grey-hounds ;  they  sur- 
round a  large  tract  of  country,  and  drive  the 
hares  before  them,  into  the  hands  of  fifty  or 
sixty  sportsmen  with  double-barrelled  guns.  It 
is  a  massacre,  not  a  hunt.  As  the  circle  grows 
more  confined,  and  only  a  few  of  the  devoted 
animals  survive,  the  amusement  becomes  nearly 
as  dangerous  to  the  sportsmen  as  to  the  game  ; 
they  shoot  across  each  other  in  all  directions ; 
and  the  Jagdmeister  and  his  assistants  find  suf- 
ficient occupation  both  for  their  voices  and  their 
arms,  here  striking  down,  there  striking  up  a 
barrel,  to  prevent  the  sportsmen,  in  the  confu- 
sion, from  pouring  the  shot  into  each  other's 
bodies.  A  large  waggon,  loaded  with  every 
thing  essential  to  good  cheer,  attends.  After  the 
first  circle  has  been  exhausted,  the  sportsmen 
make  merry,  while  the  peasants  are  forming  a 
new  one,  in  a  different  direction,  and  preparing 
a  similar  murderous  exhibition.  The  peasants 
say,  that,  without  this  summary  mode  of  execu- 


108  WEIMAR. 

tion,  they  would  be  overrun  witli  hares ;  and 
they  very  naturally  prefer  having  it  in  their 
power  to  purchase  dead  hares  for  a  price  which 
is  next  to  nothing,  to  being  eaten  up  by  thou- 
sands of  them  alive. 

The  family  of  Weimar,  besides  sustaining  so 
honourable  a  part  in  protecting  the  literature  of 
Germany,  likewise  took  the  lead  in  the  introduc- 
tion of  free  governments.  The  conclusion  of  the 
war  was  followed,  all  over  Germany,  by  the  ex- 
pectation of  ameliorated  political  institutions. 
The  Congress  of  Vienna  found  it  necessary  or 
prudent  to  assume  the  appearance,  at  least,  of 
liberality  ;  but,  unfortunately,  the  article  regard- 
ing this  matter,  in  the  act  of  the  congress,  was 
couched  in  terms  so  general,  as  to  leave  it  to 
the  choice  of  every  prince,  (and  so  it  has  been 
interpreted  in  practice,)  whether  he  would  sub- 
mit his  prerogative  to  the  restraints  of  a  legisla- 
tive body.  This  disastrous  ambiguity,  whether 
it  was  the  effect  of  accident  or  artifice,  was  the 
origin  of  the  popular  irritation,  which  immedi- 
ately ensued  in  different  parts  of  Germany ;  for, 
amid  the  variety  of  meanings,  of  which  the  words 
were  susceptible,  the  sovereigns  naturally  main- 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  109 

tained,  that  only  such  expositions  were  correct, 
as  implied  the  continuance  of  their  ancient  unde- 
fined authority.  Some,  like  the  King  of  Prus- 
sia, allowed,  that  the  article  bound  them  to  in- 
troduce "  Constitutions  of  Estates,"  but  denied 
that  it  bound  them  to  do  so  within  any  limited  pe- 
riod ;  and  held,  therefore,  that  it  lay  with  them- 
selves  to  decide,  whether  they  should  cease  to  be 
absolute  princes  five  or  five  hundred  years  hence. 
Others,  who  were  willing  to  submit  to  a  "  Con- 
stitution of  Estates,"  explained  these  words  of 
the  Congress,  as  meaning  merely  the  old  oli- 
garchical estates,  not  a  legislative  body  to  con- 
troul,  but  an  impotent  body  to  advise  ;  not  a 
parliament,  but  a  privy  council.  A  third  party 
put  this  gloss  on  the  article,  that  it  only  bound 
the  sovereigns  to  each  other,  but  in  no  degree  to 
their  subjects.  Dabelow  of  Gottingen,  a  man 
not  unknown  in  the  literary  world,  wrote  a  book 
in  defence  of  this  last  proposition.  The  Stu- 
dents of  Gottingen  reviewed  his  work,  by  affix- 
ing a  copy  to  the  whipping-post,  marching  to  the 
author's  house,  and  hailing  him  with  a  thrice  re- 
peated pereat. 

In  several  of  the  states,  particularly  in  the 


110  WEI  MAI:. 

south,  more  honest  and  liberal  sentiments  have 
gradually  prevailed  ;  but  it  was  Weimar  that 
set  the  example.  The  Grand  Duke,  disdaining 
to  seek  pretexts  in  the  act  of  congress,  and  jea- 
lous that  any  other  state  should  take  the  lead 
in  this  honourable  course,  immediately  framed 
for  his  people  a  representative  government.  He 
was  assuredly  the  very  last  prince  who  could 
have  been  exposed  to  the  necessity  of  making 
concessions  ;  his  two  hundred  thousand  subjects 
would  as  soon  have  thought  of  composing  a  gos- 
pel for  themselves,  as  of  demanding  any  share  in 
the  administration  of  public  affairs.  When  the 
first  elections  took  place  under  the  new  constitu- 
tion, considerable  difficulty  was  occasionally  ex- 
perienced in  bringing  up  the  electors,  particu- 
larly the  peasantry,  to  vote.  In  defiance  of  the 
disquisitions  of  the  liberal  professors  of  Jena,  they 
could  not  see  the  use  of  all  this  machinery.  "  Do 
we  not  pay  the  Grand  Duke  for  governing  us,11 
they  said,  "  and  attending  to  the  public  business? 
Why  give  us  all  this  trouble  besides  ?"  Nay, 
after  the  experiment  of  a  representative  body 
has  been  tried  during  seven  years,  many  still 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  Ill 

assert,  that  matters  went  on  quite  as  well,  and 
more  cheaply  without  them. 

This  miniature  parliament  forms  only  one 
house,  for  it  consists  of  only  thirty  one  members. 
Ten  are  chosen  by  the  proprietors  of  estates-noble, 
ten  by  the  citizens  of  the  towns,  ten  by  the  pea- 
santry, and  one  by  the  University  of  Jena.  The 
last  is  elected  by  the  Senatus  Academicus,  and, 
besides  being  a  professor,  must  have  taken  a  re- 
gular degree  in  the  juridical  faculty.  At  the  ge- 
neral election,  which  occurs  every  seventh  year, 
not  only  the  representatives  themselves  (Abgeord- 
neten)  are  chosen,  but  likewise  a  substitute 
(Stellvertreter)  for  every  member,  in  order  that 
the  representation  may  be  always  full.  If  the 
seat  of  a  representative  become  vacant  by  his 
death,  or  resignation,  or  any  supervenient  inca- 
pacity, the  substitute  takes  his  place  till  the  next 
general  election.  The  ten  members  for  the  no- 
bility are  chosen  directly  by  all  the  possessors 
of  estates-noble,  (Rittergilter.)  A  patent  of  no- 
bility gives  the  same  right.  The  vote  does  not 
bear  reference  to  any  fixed  value  of  property ; 
it  rests  on  the  nature  of  the  estate ;  the  posses- 
sor has  a  vote  for  every  separate  independent 


112  WEIMAR. 

estate  of  this  kind  which  he  possesses,  however 
trifling,  or  however  extensive  it  may  be.  The 
whole  doctrine  of  splitting  superiorities  and  creat- 
ing votes,  in  which  the  freeholders  and  lawyers 
of  one  part  of  our  island  have  become  so  expert, 
would  be  thrown  away  on  the  jurisconsults  of 
Saxony.  The  power  of  granting  patents  of  no- 
bility would  give  the  prince  the  power  of  creat- 
ing electors  at  pleasure ;  but  the  Grand  Duke 
has  stripped  himself  of  the  prerogative  of  raising- 
estates  to  this  higher  rank,  in  so  far  as  the  elec- 
tive franchise  is  concerned,  by  a  provision  in  the 
constitution,  that,  in  future,  he  shall  erect  Rit- 
terguter,  to  the  effect  of  giving  a  vote,  only  with 
the  consent  of  the  chamber.  Even  ladies  in 
possession  of  such  estates  have  a  vote;  but,  if  un- 
married, they  must  vote  by  proxy.  A  county 
of  female  freeholders  would  afford  the  most 
amusing  canvass  imaginable. 

In  the  representation  of  the  towns  and  pea- 
santry, the  election  is  indirect.  The  towns 
are  distributed  into  ten  districts,  each  of  which 
sends  one  member.  Weimar  and  Eisenach  form 
districts  of  themselves,  the  former  as  being  the 
capital,  and  containing  a  population  of  seven 
10 


THE  GOVKliXMENT.  113 

thousand  souls  ;  the  latter,  as  having  some  pre- 
tensions to  be  considered  a  manufacturing  town, 
and  containing  a  population  somewhat  greater 
than  that  of  Weimar.  In  these,  as  well  as 
in  all  the  towns,  great  or  small,  which  form 
the  other  districts  respectively,  every  resident 
citizen  has  a  vote  without  distinction  of  religion ; 
even  Jews  possess  the  franchise,  though  they 
cannot  be  elected.  The  whole  body  of  voters  in 
a  town  choose  a  certain  number  of  delegates,  in 
the  proportion  of  one  for  every  fifty  houses  the 
town  contains,  and  these  deputies  elect  the  mem- 
ber for  the  district.  At  least  two-thirds  of  all 
the  citizens  having  a  right  to  vote  must  be 
present  at  the  election  of  the  delegates,  and  two- 
thirds  of  the  delegates  at  the  final  election  of  the 
member.  If  no  election  takes  place,  in  con- 
sequence of  more  than  a  third  part  of  the  elec- 
tors being  absent,  all  the  expences  of  afterwards 
proceeding  to  a  new  election  are  borne  by  the 
absentees.  The  member  for  a  district  of  towns 
must  have  a  certain  and  independent  income  of 
about  L.  75  Sterling  (500  rix  dollars)  if  he  be 
elected  for  Weimar  or  Eisenach,  and  L.  45 
(300  rix  dollars)  if  he  be  chosen  to  represent 


114  WEIMAR. 

the  towns  of  any  other  district.  It  has  very 
prudently  been  added,  that,  in  estimating  this 
income,  no  salary  shall  be  taken  into  account, 
whether  it  be  derived  from  the  state  or  from  a 
private  person,  whether  paid  for  actual  service, 
or  enjoyed  as  a  pension. 

The  election  of  the  ten  representatives  of  the 
peasantry  proceeds  exactly  in  the  same  way.  In 
regard  to  them,  likewise,  the  duchy  is  divided 
into  ten  districts:  in  each  district  all  the  peasants 
who  are  major,  and  have  a  house  within  its 
bounds,  choose  their  delegates  in  the  same  pro- 
portion to  the  number  of  houses  as  in  the  towns, 
and  these  delegates  choose  the  member.  The 
member  must  be  one  of  themselves;  they  are 
not  allowed  to  take  him  from  the  higher  class  of 
landed  proprietors,  which  they  certainly  would 
easily  have  been  brought  to  do,  had  it  not  been 
thus  expressly  prohibited.  With  the  same  view 
of  preventing  noble  families  from  gaining  undue 
influence  in  the  legislature,  it  is  provided  that 
neither  brothers,  nor  father  and  son,  shall  be 
capable  of  sitting  in  the  chamber  at  the  same 
time. 

The  three  sets  of  members  thus  elected,  with 


THE  GOVERNMEKT.  115 

the  representative  of  Jena,  form  the  Landtag  or 
parliament  of  the  duchy.  They  elect  their  own 
president,  and  the  election  is  confirmed  by  the 
Grand  Duke.  He  must  be  chosen  from  the  no- 
bility, and  no  person  is  eligible  who  is  in  the 
service  of  government,  or  enjoys  a  salary  from  it. 
He  holds  his  office  during  twelve  years,  that  is, 
two  parliaments,  but  the  house  which  appointshim 
may  elect  him  for  any  longer  period,  or  even  for 
life.  This  is  scarcely  reconcileable  with  the 
strict  elective  principle;  for,  as  the  president 
thus  passes  from  the  dissolved  chamber  into  the 
new  one,  the  district  for  which  he  originally  sat 
chooses  one  member  less  at  the  new  election,  and 
the  new  chamber  itself  finds  itself  under  a  presi- 
dent elected  by  its  predecessors.  Two  assistants 
are  given  him  by  the  house,  taken  indiscriminate- 
ly from  the  three  estates,  but  they  hold  their 
office  only  for  three  years,  that  is,  for  one  ses- 
sion. The  president,  and  these  two  assistants, 
who  have  all  salaries,  form  what  is  called  the 
Vurstand,  or  presidency  of  the  chamber;  they 
are  the  organ  through  which  it  communicates 
with  the  Grand  Duke  :  during  the  session,  they 
have  the  general  superintendenceof  thebusiness; 


116  WEIMAR. 

during  adjournments  and  prorogations,  they  re- 
main in  full  activity  to  watch  over  the  course  of 
public  affairs,  to  prepare  the  matters  of  discus- 
sion that  are  likely  to  be  brought  before  the 
chamber  at  its  next  meeting,  to  issue  writs  for 
new  elections  where  vacancies  have  taken  place, 
and  to  apply  to  the  Grand  Duke,  if  they  shall 
think  it  necessary,  to  call  an  extraordinary  meet- 
ing. The  chamber  elects,  moreover,  its  own 
clerk,  pays  him  a  salary,  and  may  dismiss  him  at 
pleasure. 

Regularly  the  chamber  meets  only  once  in 
three  years,  but  the  Grand  Duke,  either  of  his 
own  accord,  or  at  the  request  of  the  Vorstand, 
may,  at  any  time,  call  an  extraordinary  meeting. 
He  has  the  prerogative  likewise  of  dissolving  it 
at  any  time ;  but,  in  that  case,  a  new  chamber 
must  be  elected  within  three  months,  otherwise 
the  dissolved  one  revives  ipso  jure  ,-  the 
former  members  are  always  re-eligible.  The 
members  have  full  privilege  of  parliament ;  their 
persons  are  inviolable  from  the  commencement, 
till  eight  days  after  the  close  of  the  session  ;  they 
are  secured  in  liberty  of  speech,  and  legal  pro- 
ceedings cannot  be  instituted  against  them  with- 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  117 

out  the  consent  of  the  chamber.  During  the 
session,  they  have  an  allowance  of  about  ten 
shillings  a  day,  besides  a  certain  sum  per  mile 
to  cover  their  travelling  expences  in  coming  to 
Weimar  and  returning  home.  The  majority  of 
voices  determines  every  question.  The  speaker 
has  no  casting  vote ;  in  case  of  equality,  there 
must  be  a  second  debate  and  division  ;  and,  if 
the  chamber  be  still  equally  divided,  the  right  of 
deciding  is  in  the  Grand  Duke.  In  every  case, 
his  Royal  Highness  has  an  absolute  veto. 

The  powers  of  the  chamber  extend  to  all  the 
branches  of  legislation,  and  its  consent  is  indis- 
pensable to  the  validity  of  all  legislative  mea- 
sures. As  it  meets  only  once  in  three  years, 
the  budget  is  voted  for  the  whole  of  that  period  ; 
but,  a  standing  committee,  consisting,  besides 
the  presidency,  of  three  members  from  the  no- 
bles, and  three  from  the  representatives  of  the 
towns  or  peasantry,  continues  during  the  long 
adjournment,  to  examine  annually  the  public- 
accounts.  No  part  of  the  constitution  itself  can 
be  changed,  nor  any  addition  made  to  it,  but 
with  the  joint  consent  of  the  prince  and  the 
chamber ;  and  no  successor  to  the  grand  ducal 


118 


WEIM.AR. 


coronet  is  to  receive  the  oath  of  homage  from 
the  representatives  of  the  people,  till  he  shall 
have  sworn  faithfully  to  observe  it.  It  confirms 
the  independence  of  the  judges,  and  liberty  of 
the  press,  which  had  been  introduced  in  the 
grand  duchy  before  this  constitution  was  fram- 
ed. 

The  chamber  met  for  the  second  time  in  De- 
cember 1820,  and  sat  no  less  than  four  months. 
The  great  ceremonies  at  opening  it  consist  in  a 
short  speech  from  the  Grand  Duke,  and  a  long 
banquet  in  the  palace.  The  members  then  pro- 
ceed to  business,  and,  out  of  San  Marino,  there 
is  nothing  like  the  simple,  honest,  well  meaning 
legislators  who  are  here  brought  together.  The 
members  elected  by  the  noble  proprietors,  the 
professor  from  Jena,  and,  perhaps,  a  few  of  those 
who  represent  the  towns,  are  men  of  education 
and  experience ;  but  most  of  the  latter,  and, 
above  all,  the  representatives  of  the  peasantry, 
are  still  more  moderate  in  education  than  they 
are  in  fortune.  Yet,  in  spite  of  their  bluff  coun- 
tenances, homely  manners,  and  shaggy  coats, 
they  bring  with  them  two  excellent  qualities,  a 
very  modest  distrust  of  their  own  judgment,  and 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  119 

a  most  laudable  desire  to  be  saving  both  of  their 
own  and  of  the  public  money.  A  county  mem- 
ber, as  the  representatives  of  the  peasantry  may 
in  some  measure  be  reckoned,  who  happened  to 
reside  not  far  from  Weimar,  walked  in  every 
morning  to  the  house  with  a  sufficient  quantity 
of  rural  viands  in  his  pockets  to  satisfy  the  de- 
mands of  the  day,  and  walked  home  again  in 
the  afternoon  with  his  half  guinea  untouched. 
These  men,  as  is  perfectly  natural,  do  not  find 
themselves  at  home  in  the  office  of  legislators ; 
the  transmigration  from  respectable  shopkeep- 
ers and  small  farmers  into  members  of  parlia- 
ment was  too  rapid  to  allow  them  to  move  easily 
in  their  new  dress ;  for  there  had  been  nothing 
-in  their  education,  or  previous  habits  of  life,  to 
prepare  them  to  act  in  so  very  different  a  capa- 
city. They  have  no  reason  to  be  ashamed  of 
this  ;  an  overweening  trust  in  their  own  qualifi- 
cations would  be  no  desirable  symptom  ;  every 
man  of  sense  must  feel  the  same  uneasiness  at 
being  called  from  bargaining  about  rye  and  black 
cattle  to  deliberate  on  measures  of  finance,  and 
decide  questions  of  public  law. 

To  this  want  of  experience,  and  the  want  of 


120  WEIMAR 

self-confidence  which  results  from  it,  are  to  be 
ascribed  several  errors  into  which  they  have  fal- 
len. For  instance,  they  committed  a  great  blun- 
der in  shutting  their  doors  against  the  public  ,• 
and  it  is  worthy  of  notice,  as  a  matter  of  politi- 
cal opinion,  that  on  this  point  they  have  stub- 
bornly refused  to  gratify  the  Grand  Duke.  In 
the  speech  with  which  he  closed  the  preceding 
session,  he  had  stated  his  wish  that,  at  their  next 
meeting,  they  should  consider  the  propriety  of 
throwing  open  their  deliberations  to  the  people, 
and  that  he  desired  this  publicity  himself.  They 
did  deliberate ;  but  the  small  manufacturers  and 
small  farmers,  with  all  their  plain  sense  and  ho- 
nest intentions,  were  so  terrified  at  the  idea  of 
being  laughed  at  for  oratorical  deficiencies,  that 
they  determined,  by  a  great  majority,  to  keep 
their  doors  shut,  but  resolved  to  print,  now 
and  then,  an  abstract  of  their  journals  for 
the  information  of  the  public,  always  under  the 
proviso  that  no  names  should  be  mentioned. 
Luden,  Professor  of  History  at  Jena,  imme- 
diately let  loose  upon  them  his  nervous  and  logi- 
cal, but  cutting  pen,  and  rendered  them  infi- 
nitely more  ridiculous  than  they  could  possibly 
have  made  themselves  by  dull  speeches. 


THE  GOVERNMENT. 


121 


They  committed  a  still  more  serious  mistake 
in  the  case  of  Dr  Oken,  the  Professor  of  Natural 
History.  This  gentleman  had  lost  his  chair  in 
the  University  of  Jena,  for  scolding  Prince  Met- 
ternich,  and  laughing  at  the  King  of  Prussia. 
He  had  been  dismissed  without  any  judicial  in- 
quiry or  sentence,  because  he  would  not  give  up 
the  publication  of  a  journal  which  other  courts 
considered  revolutionary.  He  and  his  friends, 
therefore,  loudly  maintained  that  his  dismissal 
was  illegal,  and  the  matter  came  regularly  be- 
fore the  Chamber  in  the  shape  of  a  question, 
whether  the  Grand  Duke  could  legally  dismiss 
a  public  servant,  without  good  cause  ascertained 
according  to  law  ?  The  very  way  of  putting  the 
question  showed  that  they  had  no  clear  idea  of 
the  dispute,  for  it  placed  ministers  of  state  and 
public  teachers,  or  even  judges,  on  the  same 
footing.  The  answer  which  they  gave  to  it  was 
still  less  satisfactory  ;  for  they  decided,  though 
by  a  very  small  majority,  that  the  Grand  Duke 
does  possess  this  prerogative ;  but,  at  the  same 
time,  they  voted  an  address,  in  which  they  pray- 
ed him  to  give  them  an  assurance,  that,  till  they 
should  find  time  to  concoct  a  remedial  enact- 

VOL.  i.  F 


122  WEIMAR. 

ment,  he  would  not  dismiss  any  other  public 
servant  in  the  same  way.  *  The  answer  of  his 
Royal  Highness  was  rather  touchy,  and  sounded 
very  like  a  reproach  that  they  should  think  him 
capable  of  doing  any  thing  illegal. 

There  is  a  Censorship,  but  its  existence  is  no 
stain  on  the  government  of  Weimar,  for  it  is  a 
child  of  foreign  birth  which  it  has  been  com- 
pelled to  adopt.  The  constitution  established 
the  freedom  of  the  press,  restricted  only  by  the 
necessary  responsibility  in  a  court  of  law,  and 


*  This  vote  naturally  excited  much  anger,  and  spread 
some  dismay,  among  the  gentlemen  of  the  University  ; 
it  has  had  no  small  influence  in  qualifying  their  admira- 
tion of  the  popular  body.  The  lawyers  among  them 
maintain,  to  a  man,  that  it  is  in  the  very  teeth  of  the  law. 
One  of  the  most  distinguished  of  them  said  to  me,  with 
some  bitterness,  "  Oken  deserved  it  for  his  silly  confi- 
dence in  the  representatives  of  the  people,  whom  he  de- 
lighted to  honour  and  laud.  He  would  hear  of  nothing 
but  a  discussion  before  the  Chamber,  and  now  he  can 
judge  better  what  sort  of  thing  the  Chamber  is.  Had  he 
made  his  application  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  Justice, 
instead  of  petitioning  his  representatives  of  the  people,  he 
would  have  kept  his  chair,  and  the  Chamber  would  have 
been  saved  from  making  itself  ridiculous." 

10 


THE  GOVERNMENT. 

the  constitution  itself  was  guaranteed  by  the 
Diet.  Greater  powers,  however,  not  only  held 
it  imprudent  to  concede  the  same  right  to  their 
own  subjects,  but  considered  it  dangerous  that 
it  should  be  exercised  by  any  people  speaking 
the  same  language.  The  resolutions  of  the 
Congress  of  Carlsbad  were  easily  converted  into 
ordinances  of  the  Diet,  and  Weimar  was  forced, 
by  the  will  of  this  supreme  authority,  to  receive 
a  Censorship.  Nay,  she  has  occasionally  been 
compelled  to  yield  to  external  influence,  which 
did  not  even  use  the  formality  of  acting  through 
the  medium  of  the  Diet.  Dr  Reuder  was  the 
editor  of  a  Weimar  newspaper  called  the  "  Op- 
position Paper,11  (Das  Oppositions-Blatt,)  a 
journal  of  decidedly  liberal  principles,  and  ex- 
tensive circulation.  When  it  was  understood 
that  the  three  powers  intended  to  crush  the  Nea- 
politan revolution  by  force,  tliere  appeared  in 
this  paper  one  or  two  articles  directed  against 
the  justice  of  this  armed  interference.  They 
passed  over  unnoticed ;  but,  in  a  couple  of 
months,  the  Congress  of  Troppau  assembled, 
and  forthwith  appeared  an  edict  of  the  Grand 
Duke  suppressing  the  paper.  No  one  laid  the 


124  WEIMAR. 

blame  on  the  government.  Every  body  in 
Weimar  said,  "  an  order  has  come  down  from 
Troppau."  The  politics  of  Russia  must  always 
find  an  open  door  in  the  cabinet  of  Weimar,  for 
the  consort  of  the  heir  apparent  is  a  sister  of  the 
Russian  Autocrat,  and  enjoys  the  reputation  of 
being  a  princess  of  more  than  ordinary  talent. 
Her  husband  possesses  the  virtues,  rather  than 
the  abilities  of  his  parents. 

In  fact,  from  the  moment  the  liberty  of  the 
press  was  established,  Weimar  was  regarded 
with  an  evil  eye  by  the  potentates  who  prepon- 
derate in  the  Diet.  In  less  than  three  years 
there  were  six  journals  published  in  Weimar 
and  Jena,  devoted  wholly,  or  in  part,  to  politi- 
cal discussion,  and  three  of  them  edited  by  pro- 
fessors of  distinguished  name  in  German  learn- 
ing. Their  politics  were  all  in  the  same  strain  ; 
earnest  pleadings  for  representative  constitutions, 
and  very  provoking,  though  very  sound  disqui- 
sitions, on  the  inefficacy  of  the  new  form  of  con- 
federative  government  to  which  Germany  has 
been  subjected.  At  Weimar  no  fault  was  found 
with  all  this ;  more  than  one  of  these  journals 
were  printed  in  the  Industrie-C&mptoir^  an  esta- 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  125 

blishment  under  the  peculiar  protection  of  the 
Grand  Duke.  But  a  different  party,  and  parti- 
cularly the  government  press  of  some  other 
courts,  took  the  alarm,  and  raised  an  outcry 
against  Weimar,  as  if  all  the  radicals  of  Europe 
had  crowded  into  this  little  territory,  to  hatch 
rebellion  for  the  whole  continent.  Every  oc- 
currence'was  made  use  of  to  throw  odium  on 
the  liberal  forms  of  her  government,  or  torment 
its  administrators  with  remonstrances  and  com- 
plaints. The  Grand  Duke  really  had  some  rea- 
son to  say,  that  Jena  had  cost  him  more  uneasi- 
ness than  Napoleon  had  ever  done.  By  displac- 
ing some,  suspending  others,  and  frightening  all; 
by  establishing  a  Censorship,  and  occasionally 
administering  a  suppression,  the  press  of  Wei- 
mar has  been  reduced  to  silence  or  indifference. 
These  free  institutions  were  in  no  sense  the 
creation  of  the  public  mind,  or  the  public  wish- 
es, for  the  people  had  never  thought  about  the 
matter,  and  felt  immoveably  that  they  could  not 
be  better  governed  than  they  had  hitherto  been. 
They  were  as  completely  a  voluntary  gift  as 
could  well  be  bestowed  ;  they  were  the  work  of 
the  sovereign  himself,  and  a  few  men  of  honesty 


126  WEIMAR. 

and  talent,  setting  themselves  down  to  frame  as 
effective,  and  yet,  as  the  nature  of  the  case  re- 
quired, as  simple  an  organ  as  possible,  by  which 
the  public  opinion,  if  so  inclined,  might  controul 
the  government.  What  they  have  done  is  ho- 
nourable to  their  liberality  and  prudence.  Per- 
haps it  was  not  so  much  the  good  will  of  the 
aristocracy,  as  the  necessity  of  the  case,  and  the 
good  sense  of  the  prince,  that  melted  nobles  and 
commoners  into  one  chamber,  where  the  former 
can  exercise  only  their  proper  and  natural  influ- 
ence. So  small  a  territory  neither  required  the 
labours,  nor  could  support  the  burden  of  two 
chambers. 

Setting  aside  the  supreme  controul  of  the 
Diet,  to  which  neither  the  wishes  nor  the  inte- 
rests of  prince  and  people  conjoined  can  oppose 
any  resistance,  if  the  people  of  the  grand 
duchy  be  misgoverned,  they  can  only  have 
themselves  to  blame ;  for  the  constitution  of 
their  legislative  body  is  sufficiently  popular,  and 
its  powers,  if  duly  exercised,  sufficiently  effec- 
tive. Hitherto  they  have  taken  little  interest  in 
what  it  does.  Except  among  men  of  liberal 
education,  repining  professors  and  silenced  edi- 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  127 

tors  find  neither  attention  nor  sympathy.  In 
Weimar  itself,  during  the  session  of  the  Cham- 
ber, you  seldom  hear  public  matters  adverted  to ; 
they  are  still  too  foreign  to  all  their  habits  to 
occupy  the  citizens.  You  may  possibly  stumble 
now  and  then  on  a  couple  of  ducal  statesmen 
discussing  some  point  in  a  corner  at  a  party,  or 
during  'a  walk  in  the  Park;  or,  at  the  table 
d'hote,  (for,  if  practicable,  the  house  pays  re- 
gular deference  to  the  dinner-hour)  a  member 
may  let  out  some  dark  hints  of  what  passed  with- 
in doors ;  but  in  society  they  are  never  heard 
pf ;  political  discussions  and  political  parties  are 
there  unknown.  The  coteries  of  Weimar  still 
keep  by  the  song  and  the  jest,  poetry  and  paint- 
ing, the  newest  play  or  romance,  or  the  adven- 
tures of  the  last  sledge-party  to  Belvedere  or 
Berka ;  and  nobody,  save  the  professors  of 
Jena,  seems  to  care  one  farthing  how  the  one 
and  thirty  may  be  earning  their  ten  shillings  a- 
day.  This  lies  partly  in  the  national  character. 
They  are  young  in  political  life,  and,  like  all 
their  countrymen,  get  on  slowly,  but  surely. 
This  is  the  temper  which  wears  best,  for  in  po- 
litical education,  more  than  in  any  other,  preco- 


128  WEIMAK. 

city  is  the  bane  of  depth  and  soundness.  Die 
Zeit  bringt  Rosen,  says  their  own  proverb.*  It 
may  likewise  bring  an  interest  in  public  affairs, 
and  a  knowledge  of  public  duties. 

Since  the  termination  of  the  war  left  the  go- 
vernment its  own  master,  it  has  very  wisely 
avoided  that  affectation  of  military  parade,  by 
which  the  smaller  princes  so  often  rendered 
themselves  ridiculous,  and  ruined  their  finances. 
Except  the  few  hussars  who  act  as  sentinels  at 
the  palace,  and  occasionally  escort  its  inhabitants 
on  a  journey,  you  may  traverse  the  grand  duchy 
without  meeting  a  uniform.  Now,  however, 
that  the  Diet  has  ultimately  arranged  the  mili- 
tary contingents  of  the  confederates,  Weimar 
will  have  to  support  an  army  of  two  thousand 
men.  It  will  be  better  able  to  bear  the  bur- 
den, than  the  still  smaller  states  which  are  clus- 
tered together  in  the  neighbourhood.  The 
Grand  Duke  is  within  a  day's  journey  of  the 
territories  of  no  fewer  than  twelve  sovereign 
princes.  Prussia  is  the  leviathan  that  is  nearest 


*  Time  brings  roses- 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  129 

him.  Bavaria,  Royal  Saxony,  and  Cassel,  are 
within  his  reach,  and  are  also  politically  import- 
ant. Then  comes  Weimar  itself,  like  a  first- 
born, among  the  allied  Saxon  houses  of  Gotha, 
Cobourg,  Meynungen,  and  Hilburghausen.  In 
the  vanishing  point  of  the  perspective  appear 
the  "  Wee  wee  German  Lairdies,"  the  double 
branches  of  the  lines  of  Ileuss  and  Schwarzen- 
burg. 

There  is  a  party  in  Germany,  which  still  asks, 
how  have  these  petty  princes  been  allowed  to  re- 
tain their  independence,  when  so  many  others, 
whose  separate  existence  was  in  no  respect  more 
injurious  to  the  unity  and  respectability  of  the 
common  country,  have  been  reduced  to  the  rank 
of  subjects  ?  What  has  saved  Reuss  or  Sonders- 
hausen,  when  Tour  and  Taxis  has  been  media- 
tized ?  Their  voices  in  the  Diet  can  never  be 
their  own;  for,  though  they  have  every  ratio 
of  monarch s,  except  the  ultima,  what  they  want 
is  exactly  the  essential  part  of  political  oratory. 
They  necessarily  become  instruments  in  the 
hands  of  the  more  powerful ;  and,  so  long  as 
they  continue  to  exist,  memorials  of  an  empire 
which  is  gone,  rather  than  livingefficient  members 


130  WEIMAK. 

of  the  German  people,  the  country  can  never  be 
redeemed  from  foreign  tutelage,  or  acquire  that 
native  union  which  alone  can  give  it  the  dignity 
of  an  independent  state.  The  theory  of  this 
party  accordingly  is,  that  all  foreign  powers 
shall  be  stripped  of  their  German  dominions. 
Even  Prussia  and  Austria  are  to  be  considered 
extraneous  monarchies ;  for,  though  they  may 
be  useful  as  allies,  they  will  only  be  dangerous 
as  curators,  and  curators  they  will  be,  if  they 
are  included  at  all.  Then,  all  the  states  below 
second  rates  are  to  be  blotted  out,  and  their 
territories  so  apportioned  among  the  pure  Ger- 
man powers  of  some  importance,  such  as  Bava- 
ria, Wirtemberg,  Saxony,  and  Hanover,  that 
there  shall  be  two  powerful  kingdoms  in  the 
north,  and  two  in  the  south.  Germany,  they 
say,  having  thus  four  efficient,  instead  of  forty 
inefficient  mqnarchs,  will  command  respect  from 
all  the  world.  England,  alas  !  has  no  chance 
for  either  of  the  two  northern  crowns.  The 
very  first  step  to  be  taken  is  to  strip  us  of  Ha- 
nover, and  this  party  rails  furiously  at  the  Con- 
gress, for  having  allowed  our  royal  family  to 
retain  it.  Even  the  free  towns  are  to  fall,  for 


THE  GOVEBNMENT*  131 

they  are  considered  as  merely  English  factories, 
which  ruin  the  native  manufactures ;  and  the 
twin  monarch  s  of  the  north  are  to  be  specially 
charged  with  the  duty  of  liberating  God's  ocean 
from  our  maritime  yoke.  Such  was  the  plan 
detailed  in  the  Ms.  aus  Siid  Deutschland.,  a 
work  which  it  cost  the  police  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  to  suppress.  We  may  congratulate  our- 
fielves,  that  the  dictators  of  Germany  have  agreed 
to  consider  these  doctrines  as  revolutionary  ; 
that,  at  all  events,  in  the  present  state  of  the 
world,  they  are  impracticable ;  and  that  the 
Rhine,  the  Neckar,  and  the  Main,  are  much 
more  prolific  in  good  wines  than  in  expert  sea- 
men. 


182  JEXA. 


CHAPTER  III. 

JENA. 

Stosst  an !  Jena  lebe  !  hurrah  hoch ! 

Jena  Student  Hymn. 

THE  vicinity  of  Jena,  always  one  of  the  most 
distinguished,  and,  of  late  years,  by  far  the  most 
notorious  of  the  German  universities,  is,  to  a 
stranger,  no  small  recommendation  of  Weimar 
as  a  temporary  residence  ;  a  week  of  the  courtly 
society  and  enjoyments  of  the  one,  interchang- 
ing with  a  week  among  the  raw  students  and 
learned  professors  of  the  other,  forms  a  pleasant 
alternation.  The  peculiarities  of  the  Burschen 

life,  *   considered  merely  as  matters  of  observa- 

* 

*  It  is  necessary  to  mention,  once  for  all,  that  the  word 
Bursche,  though  it  only  means  a  young  fellow,  has  been 
appropriated  by  the  students,  all  over  Germany,  to  desig- 


JENA. 


133 


tion,  are  seen  to  much  less  advantage  in  the  large 
capitals,  than  in  what  are  properly  termed  uni- 
versity towns ;  towns,  that  is,  which,  in  a  great 
measure,  have  been  formed  by  the  presence  of 
the  university,  and  are  dependent  upon  it.  In 
Berlin,  for  example,  however  much  the  Burschen 
may  be  inclined  to  tyrannize,  they  feel  that  they 
are  but  as  a  drop  in  the  ocean ;  they  are  not  suf- 
ficiently numerous,  in  reference  to  the  popula- 
tion, to  be  personages  of  importance.  Besides, 
the  keen  eye  with  which  such  a  police  watches 
all  their  vagaries,  and  the  promptitude  with 
which  a  military  police,  like  that  of  Berlin,  would 
suppress  them,  the  ridicule  of  two  hundred  thou- 
sand inhabitants  is  more  than  they  could  well  en- 
dure, while  the  manhood  of  such  a  population  is 
more  than  the  most  persevering  Bobadil  amongst 
them  would  undertake  to  decimate.  It  is  in 
towns  which  consist  of  scarcely  any  thing  but  the 


nate  themselves.  They  have  agreed  to  consider  them- 
selves as  being,  par  excellence,  the  young  fellows  of  Ger- 
many. Das  Burschenleben,  for  example,  does  not  mean 
the  mode  of  life  of  young  men  in  general,  but  only  of 
youi.-g  men  at  college. 

4 


134  JENA. 

university,  and  in  which  the  inhabitants  are  de- 
pendent on  the  presence  of  some  hundreds  of 
young  men  from  all  the  countries  of  the  Confed- 
eration, that  the  sect  appears  in  its  true  form  and 
colour.  In  these,  the  Burschen  themselves  con- 
stitute the  public ;  in  these,  no  taint  of  extran- 
eous civilization  mars  the  purity  of  their  own 
roughness  and  caprices ;  and,  so  far  from  ac- 
knowledging any  superior,  they  recognize  no 
equal.  The  mere  citizens,  or  Philistines,  as 
they  are  denominated  by  the  sons  of  the  aca- 
demic Israel,  form  a  despised  and  rejected  race. 
If  they  wish  to  let  their  houses,  sell  their  wares, 
or  have  their  bills  paid,  they  must  passively  sub- 
rait  to  the  capricious  government  of  their  over- 
bearing lodgers,  who,  constituting  the  all-power- 
ful and  ever-present  WE,  rule  the  community  li- 
terally with  a  rod  of  iron.  These  little  towns 
are  the  empires  of  Comments,  Landsmann- 
schaften,  and  Renommiren;  of  beer-drinking, 
and  duel-fighting ;  of  scholars  who  set  their  mas- 
ters at  defiance,  and  masters  who,  for  the  sake 
of  fees,  occasionally  truckle  to  their  scholars ; 
and  nowhere  do  all  these  elements  of  the  beau 


THE  TOWN.  135 

ideal  of  a  modern  German  university  concur  in 
greater  perfection  than  in  Jena. 

Jena  is  a  few  miles  to  the  eastward  of  Wei- 
mar, and  stands  in  a  much  more  pleasing  dis- 
trict of  country  on  the  Saal.  The  ground  sepa- 
rates into  two  lofty,  precipitous,  rocky  ridges, 
presenting  a  striking  regularity  and  uniformity 
of  structure,  but  so  bare,  that  even  in  summer 
no  covering  of  verdure  conceals  the  brown 
stone.  These  ridges  terminate  abruptly  close 
by  the  Saal,  which  meanders  through  a  very 
delightful  valley,  where  the  rich  meadows  in  the 
bottom,  the  cultivated  slopes  of  the  hills,  the 
cottages  and  hamlets  peeping  out  from  tufts  of 
copsewood,  or  lurking  beneath  ancient  elms,  are 
all  in  a  pure  style  of  rural  beauty  ;  the  river  it- 
self is  a  considerable  and  limpid  stream,  altoge- 
ther majestic  in  comparison  with  the  muddy  Ilm 
of  Weimar.  It  is  no  wonder  that  Gothe  prefers 
Jena  to  the  capital  for  his  summer  residence. 
The  town  itself  lies  between  the  foot  of  the 
abrupt  eminences  and  the  river.  There  is  no- 
thing about  it  worthy  of  remark.  Many  of  the 
houses  display  a  great  deal  of  the  ornamental, 
but  somewhat  grotesque,  style  of  building  which, 


136  JENA. 

at  one  time,  was  so  common  in  the  south  of  Ger- 
many, and  of  which  Augsburg,  in  particular,  is 
still  so  full. 

Before  descending  into  the  town  by  a  road 
which,  in  winter  at  least,  is  among  the  very 
worst  in  Europe,  the  traveller  passes  the  field  of 
battle  of  1806,  of  that  melancholy  day  when 

Prussia  hastened  to  the  field, 

And  grasped  the  spear,  but  left  the  shield. 

Looking  at  the  nature  of  the  ground,  the  de- 
files which  the  French  army  had  to  pass,  the  as- 
cents which  it  had  to  climb,  and  the  batteries 
which  it  had  to  encounter,  as  it  advanced  from 
Jena,  a  person,  who  is  no  tactician,  finds  it  diffi- 
cult to  conceive  how  the  Prussians  contrived  not 
only  to  lose  the  battle,  but  to  lose  it  so  thorough- 
ly, that  it  decided  the  fate  of  the  monarchy. 
Yet  there  are  few  things  more  absurd  than  the 
contempt  with  which,  from  the  period  of  this 
unfortunate  battle,  it  became  fashionable  for 
France,  and  the  partial  friends  of  France  in 
other  countries,  to  speak  of  the  Prussian  milita- 
ry, an  ignorant  affectation  which  even  the  gigan- 
tic efforts  of  the  Liberation  War  have  not  been 


THK  BATTLE.  137 

able  entirely  to  explode  from  among  ourselves. 
A  single  battle  may  decide  the  fate  of  an  empire, 
but  can  never  decide  the  military  character  of  a 
people.  If  France,  under  Napoleon,  conquered 
at  Jena,  Prussia,  under  Frederick,  had  been 
equally  triumphant  at  Rossbach.  Whatever 
errors  Prussia  may  have  committed  on  the 
heights  of  Auerstadt,  have  all  been  washed  out 
by  the  waters  of  the  Bober  and  the  Katzbach. 

Before  the  action  Jena  was  the  French  head- 
quarters, and,  as  was  to  be  expected  from  an 
army  which,  wherever  it  arrived,  arrived  in  want 
of  every  thing  but  powder  and  shot,  the  town 
was  not  only  plundered,  but  great  part  of  it 
burned.  The  men  ran  about  the  streets  with 
firebrands,  extorting  a  ready  compliance  with 
all  their  demands.  A  shopkeeper,  Avho,  already 
plundered,  refused  to  give  up  to  a  soldier  the 
last  pittance  on  which  he  could  hope  to  preserve 
his  family  from  starvation,  was  bayonetted  on  the 
spot  by  the  ruffian.  Mr  Knebel,  one  of  the  an- 
cient literati  of  Weimar,  who  now  enjoys  in 
Jena  his  otium  cum  digmtate,  labouring  at  a 
translation  of  Lucretius,  on  which  Gothe  told 
me  he  had  known  him  employed  forty  years, 


138  JENA. 

complained  loudly  of  the  murderous  licence  to 
one  of  the  officers  quartered  in  his  house  ;  he 
was  answered  with  a  jest.  The  principal  source 
of  apprehension  to  the  citizens  lay  in  the  pos- 
sibility of  the  students  provoking  the  milita- 
ry, which  would  have  produced  an  indiscrimi- 
nate massacre.  It  sounds  ridiculous  enough  to 
talk  of  a  few  hundred  boys  insulting  a  French 
army ;  but  at  Halle  something  of  the  kind  ac- 
tually happened,  and  occasioned  the  suppression 
of  the  University,  At  Jena  they  were  more 
prudent,  and,  with  the  current  of  battle,  the 
storm  rolled  away  in  another  direction.  The 
French  commissaries,  however,  who  remained  in 
the  town  for  some  time  after  the  battle,  were  in- 
cessantly transmitting  to  head-quarters  their  ap- 
prehensions of  the  students.  One  of  them  was 
quartered  in  the  house  of  a  professor,  and  the 
professors  generally  lecture  at  home.  When 
he  first  observed  the  students  crowding  about 
the  door,  nothing  doubting  but  they  were  as- 
sembling to  assassinate  him,  he  saved  himself  by 
leaping  from  a  window,  at  no  small  personal 
risk,  and  never  stopped  till  he  found  himself  safe 
in  Weimar. 


PROFESSORS.  J39 

The  university  was  founded  in  the  middle  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  by  the  sovereign  princes 
of  the  Ernestine  branch  of  the  house  of  Saxony, 
Weimar,  Gotha,  Cobourg,  and  Meinungen. 
It  is  the  joint  property  of  these  little  monarchs, 
who  likewise  share  the  patronage  among  them. 
In  practice,  however,  the  professors  are  named 
only  by  Weimar  and  Gotha ;  for  Cobourg  and 
Meinungen  have  transferred  their  right  to  the 
latter,  having  probably  found  that  the  power  of 
nominating  the  fourth  part  of  a  professor  was 
not  worth  the  expence  which  the  partnership 
imposed  upon  them.  By  the  constitution  of  the 
university,  the  new  professor  should  be  selected 
froma  listof  three  candidates  given  in  by  thesena- 
tus  academicus  ;  but  the  senate  has  allowed  this 
privilege  to  go  so  entirely  into  disuse,  that,  for 
a  long  time,  not  even  the  form  has  been  retain- 
ed, and  the  sovereign  nominates  directly  to  the 
vacant  chair.  The  privilege  is  said  to  have 
been  abused  by  the  faculties.  I  was  assured  by 
members  of  the  university  that  the  senate  has 
been  known,  from  mere  envy  of  superior  talent, 
to  pass  by  a  man  of  acknowledged  genius,  and 
give  in  a  list  of  three  acknowledged  blockheads. 


JEN*  A. 

The  constitution  of  the  university  is  the  same 
with]  that  which  prevails  ail  over  Germany.  It 
consists  of  the  four  usual  faculties,  the  Theolo- 
gical, Juridical,  Medical,  and  Philosophical, 
though,  in  some  instances,  the  distinction  be- 
tween them  is  not  very  accurately  observed. 
As  every  thing  not  included  under  the  first 
three  is  referred  to  the  philosophical  faculty, 
and  as  they  had  been  established  long  before 
many  branches  of  knowledge  rose  to  the  rank  of 
separate  sciences,  the  philosophical  assumes  a 
most  heterogeneous  appearance;  Greek  and  Che- 
mistry, Logic  and  Mineralogy,  Belles-Lettres  and 
Botany,  stand  side  by  side  in  the  academical  ar- 
ray. For  the  ordinary  departments  of  study, 
there  are  three  sets  of  instructors.  The  ordi- 
nary professors  are,  as  their  name  imports,  the 
proper  corporation :  they  constitute  the  faculties, 
elect  from  among  themselves  the  members  of  the 
senate,  confer  the  degrees,  exercise  the  jurisdic- 
tion, and  appoint  the  inferior  officers  of  the  uni- 
versity, and  receive  salaries.  Jena  has  twenty- 
eight;  four  theologians,  no  fewer  than  nine  juris- 
consults, five  medical,  and  ten  philosophical 
professors.  The  extraordinary  professors  are  in 


PROFESSORS.  141 

a  manner  volunteers  ;  they  have  no  seat  in  the 
faculty,  no  share  in  the  authority  of  the  corpo- 
ration, and  receive  either  no  salary,  or  a  very 
trifling  one.  The  third  class,  Doctor es privatlm 
docentes,  have  in  reality  nothing  to  do  with  the 
university,  except  that  they  are  under  its  protec- 
tion, and  have  its  authority -to  teach;  they  are 
merely  young  men,  who,  having,  taken  a  diplo- 
ma in  some  one  of  the  faculties,  have  obtained 
the  permission  of  the  senate  to  give  lectures,  if 
they  can  find  hearers.  There  are  likewise  at- 
tached to  the  university,  as  every  where  else  in 
Germany,  teachers  of  the  principal  modern  lan- 
guages, and  masters,  moreover,  in  riding,  fencing, 
dancing,  music,  and  drawing.  All  these,  to  be 
sure,  are  in  reality  only  private  teachers,  but 
they  are  an  indispensable  appendix  to  the  univer- 
sity, and,  in  the  eyes  of  great  part  of  the  stu- 
dents, this  appendix,  like  the  postscript  of  a  la- 
dy's letter,  is  the  most  important  member  of  the 
Alma  Mater.  A  professor  of  law  or  theology 
might  be  of  moderate  attainments  without  doinw 
much  mischief ;  but  few  would  think  of  attend- 
ing a  university  which  did  not  possess  able  mas- 
ters in  fencing,  riding,  and  dancing.  The  first 


142  JENA. 

of  these  three  is  the  only  personage  whom  the 
Burschen  recognize  as  sacrosanct ;  the  last  is  of 
less  use,  for,  as  every  German  boy  and  German 
girl  learns  waltzing  as  naturally  as  walking,  the 
college  gentlemen  are  much  more  bent  on  the 
practice  than  the  study  of  the  art. 

The  salaries  of  the  professors  are  small,  for 
how  can  so  poor  and  insignificant  a  country  be 
munificent  in  its  learned  institutions?  They 
used  to  be  four  hundred  rix  dollars;  within 
these  few  years  they  have  been  raised  to  five 
hundred,  a  sum  which  does  not  exceed  L.  80, 
and  is  little  more  than  what  is  required  to  bring 
a  respectable  student  through  a  well  spent  year 
at  Gb'ttingen.  This  rule,  however,  is  not  always 
strictly  observed.  When  it  is  wished  to  bring  a 
person  of  eminence  to  the  university,  and  the 
man  knows  his  own  value,  (which  he  generally 
does)  it  is  neither  unusual  nor  improper  to  find 
him  higgling  for  a  hundred  or  two  hundred  dol- 
lars more  ;  and  the  house  of  Weimar  enjoys  the 
reputation  of  having  always  been  as  liberal,  in 
this  respect,  as  its  revenues  allowed.  The 
teachers  are  thus  very  far  from  being  indepen- 
dent of  the  students  and  their  fees,  a  dependence 


FEES.  143 

•which  has  brought  with  it  both  good  and  bad 
consequences.  It  has  been  useful,  as  competi- 
tion always  is,  by  urging  the  professors  to  ac- 
quire reputation,  that  they  may  acquire  hearers ; 
but  it  has  been  injurious  by  seducing  them  to 
court  popularity  by  relaxing  the  reins  of  discipline, 
and  overlooking  many  of  the  evils  of  the  Bur- 
schen  life,  that  they  might  draw  crowds  to  their 
university  by  giving  it  the  character  of  being 
the  one  where  the  follies  and  vices  of  the  system 
which  German  students  have  established  for 
their  own  government,  were  least  exposed  to 
punishment  and  restraint.  The  fee.  like  the 
salary,  varies  with  the  reputation  of  the  teacher. 
The  usual  fee  for  a  session  is  five  rix  dollars, 
(15s.  6d.)  yet  there  are  instances  of  a  sturdy 
higgler  beating  down  even  this  trifling  sum. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  are  prelections,  espe- 
cially in  the  medical  faculty,  which  go  as  high 
as  a  guinea.  In  other  branches  of  expence,  the 
German  student  has  not  the  same  overwhelming- 
advantage  ;  but  altogether,  living  as  a  respecta- 
ble Burschen  would  wish  to  do,  he  can  enjoy, 
for  half  the  money,  the  same  education  he  could 
command  in  Scotland.  The  English  universi- 


144  JENA. 

ties,  in  their  general  character,  never  come  into 
question,  they  are  seminaries  for  particular  clas- 
ses. A  distinguished  member  of  the  juridical 
faculty  at  Jena  was  particularly  inquisitive 
about  the  economical  relations  of  his  brethren  in 
Britain.  When  I  spoke  to  him  of  a  professor 
of  law,  in  Edinburgh,  for  example,  adding  to 
his  salary  a  body  of  three  hundred  students  at 
four  guineas  a  head,  for  five  months1  labour,  the 
astonished  jurisconsult  could  only  exclaim,  "  O 
das  gesegnete  Volklein  /" 

Even  the  fees,  moderate  as  they  are,  are  but 
of  recent  origin.  In  the  original  constitution  of 
the  German  universities,  there  was  no  provision 
forhonoraries;  formany  years,  the  professors  con- 
tinued to  deliver  their  lectures  gratis.  Michael  is 
of  Gottingen  was  among  the  first  who  openly  at- 
tacked the  system,  and  a  revolution,  so  desir- 
able to  the  teachers,  was  speedily  accomplished. 
The  professors  argued  thus ;  by  law  we  must 
give  lectures  gratis,  but  that  is  no  reason  why 
we  should  not  likewise  give  others,  not  gratis,  to 
those  who  are  willing  to  pay  for  them  ;  and  if  we 
only  take  care  that  the  former  shall  be  good  for 
nothing,  and  reserve  for  the  latter  all  that  is 


FEES. 


worth  knowing,  every  body  who  wishes  to  Jearn 
will  choose  to  pay.  This  principle  once  adopt- 
ed, the  progress  of  the  thing  was  quite  natural, 
and  the  distinction  between  public  and  private 
lectures  in  a  German  program  becomes  perfect- 
ly intelligible.  The  professors  gradually  intro- 
duced a  separate  course  of  prelections>  which 
they  called  private,  and  for  which  they  exacted 
fees  ;  the  public,  that  is,  the  gratis  lectures,  ra- 
pidly became  superficial  and  uninteresting,  while 
every  thing  important  in  the  science  which  he 
taught  was  reserved,  by  the  professor,  for  the 
golden  privatim.  The  natural  consequence  was, 
that  public  or  gratis  lectures  disappeared,  and 
what  were  called  private  took  their  place. 
These  private  lectures  are,  in  every  respect,  ex- 
cept that  of  expence,  the  old  public  lectures; 
they  are  given  in  the  same  place,  in  the  same 
way,  on  the  same  topics,  but  they  must  be  paid 
for ;  because  it  has  unavoidably  come  to  this, 
that  a  student  as  little  thinks  of  attending,  as  a 
professor  of  delivering,  public  lectures  in  the  old 
sense  of  the  word.  A  student  could  not  find  a 
sufficient  number  of  them  to  complete  any 
course  ;  and,  though  he  did,  to  take  advantage 

VOL.   I.  G 


146  JENA. 

of  them  would  make  him  be  regarded  by  his 
fellows  as  a  charity  school  boy.  Among  the 
host  of  professors  at  Jena,  there  are  few  who 
have  ever  read  a  publicum  in  their  lives ;  and 
they  are  perfectly  right.  If  it  be  bad  in  a 
wealthy  government  to  make  public  instructors 
independent  of  intellectual  exertion,  it  would  be 
preposterous  in  a  poor  one,  which  cannot  give 
them  a  decent  independence,  to  deny  them  the 
fruits  of  their  intellectual  labour.  Even  where 
a  wandering  publice  makes  its  appearance,  it 
is  uniformly  accompanied  with  some  such  sig- 
nificant phrase  as,  horis  et  diebus  commodis ; 
or,  adhuc  definiendis ;  or  the  subject  of  the 
promised  prelections  has  little  to  do  with  the  de- 
partment in  question.  Thus  Lenz,  the  Professor 
of  Mineralogy,  announced,  for  his  private  course, 
mineralogy  and  geognosy ;  but,  for  his  public- 
course,  and  that,  too,  only  hora  commoda, — 
German  Antiquities  !  Some  of  the  professors 
give  a  third  course,  which  is  announced  as  priva- 
tissime,  and  must  be  paid  for  at  a  still  higher 
rate  than  the  simply  private. 

No  better  proof  of  their  love  of  fees,  and,  what 
is  much  better,  of  their  proverbial  industry,  can 


DIVISION  OF  LECTURES.  147 

be  found  than  the  numerous  subdivisions  into 
which  they  break  down  their  particular  depart- 
ments, converting  each  into  the  subject-matter 
of  a  separate  course,  and  not  unfrequently  su- 
peradding  to  them  prelections  which  appear 
to  have  little  connection  with  their  proper 
business.  Every  professor,  though  appointed 
to  teach  a  particular  science,  is  left  to  his 
own  discretion  as  to  the  manner  in  which  he 
shall  teach  it ;  and  the  Protestant  universities  are 
accustomed  to  boast  of  this  liberty  as  an  advan- 
tage which  they  enjoy  over  their  Catholic  rivals, 
with  whom  the  how  as  well  as  the  what  of  pub- 
lic teaching,  and  even  the  text-books  that  shall 
be  used,  are  laid  down  by  positive  rule.  In  the 
former,  the  professor  is  left  entirely  to  the  free- 
dom of  his  own  will.  In  the  course  of  the  ses- 
sion, that  is,  in  about  five  months,  he  may  go 
through  his  science,  and  immediately  begin  it 
again  for  the  next ;  but,  in  general,  he  adopts  a 
plan  by  which  more  fees  are  brought  in,  and  the 
science  is  perhaps  better  taught.  He  breaks  down 
his  subject  into  separate  courses,  which  are  car- 
ried on  simultaneously  ;  for  he  either  devotes  a 
certain  number  of  days  in  the  week  to  one,  and 


148  J«NA. 

the  rest  to  another,  or  lectures  two  or  three  hour* 
a-day.  Thus  every  thing  is  taught  more  in  de- 
tail, the  professors  get  more  money,  and  have 
much  harder  labour.  But  they  are  a  race  most 
patient  of  toil.  It  has  been  said  of  Michaelis, 
that  he  was  so  identified  with  his  profession,  that 
he  never  was  happy  but  when  reading  lectures, 
and  all  the  days  in  his  calendar  were  white,  ex- 
cept the  holidays.  His  mantle  seems  to  have 
descended  on  the  greatest  part  of  his  follow- 
ers between  the  Vistula  and  the  Rhine.  At 
Jena,  Stark,  whose  peculiar  department  is  the  ob- 
stetric art,  was  lecturing  at  one  hour  on  the 
theory,  and,  at  a  second,  in  the  Lying-in  Hospi- 
tal, on  the  practice  of  midwifery  ;  at  a  third,  upon 
surgery ;  at  a  fourth,  on  the  diseases  of  the  eye ; 
and,  at  a  fifth,  was  giving  clinical  lectures  in  the 
Infirmary.  Kieser,  another  celebrated  member 
of  the  same  faculty,  was  occupying  two  different 
hours  with  two  separate  courses  in  medicine; 
for  a  third,  he  announced  animal  magnetism ; 
and  for  a  fourth,  the  anatomy  and  physiology  of 
plants.  Of  the  two  properly  medical  courses, 
the  first  was  general  pathology ;  the  second, 
which,  if  taken  at  all,  must  be  taken  and  paid 


LAW. 

for  as  a  separate  course,  was  a  particular  part  of 
the  general  doctrine,  inflammations,  but  treated 
more  in  detail. 

One  of  our  own  professors,  who,  though  re- 
ceiving four  times  the  money,  impatiently  reck- 
ons every  hour  till  his  five  brief  months  of  mo- 
derate labour  be  past,  could  not  hold  out  for  a 
single  year  among  these  gentlemen,  for  they 
have  two  sessions  in  the  year,  each  of  about  five 
months.  Their  only  period  of  relaxation  is  an 
interval  of  a  month  between  one  session  and  the 
other,  which,  however,  they  generally  contrive 
to  stretch  out  to  six  weeks,  by  finishing  the  one 
a  few  days  earlier,  and  commencing  the  other 
a  few  days  later,  than  strict  rule  allows.  The 
professor  who  lectured  on  the  Pandects  was 
reading  three  hours  a  day,  two  of  them  succes- 
sively ;  an  enormous  task  both  for  him  and  his 
pupils.  This  department  being  so  heavy,  three 
gentlemen  of  the  juridical  faculty  read  the  Pan- 
dects in  their  turn. 

The  lawyers  have  thus  hard  work,  but  they 
are  likewise  much  more  amply  provided  for  than 
their  brethren ;  their  salaries,  and  the  fees  de- 
rived from  students,  do  not  constitute  one-half 


150  JENA. 

of  their  emoluments.  The  juridical  faculty,  in 
every  German  university,  forms  a  court  of  ap- 
peal for  the  whole  Confederation.  In  all  the 
states,  the  losing  party  in  a  cause  had  the  right 
of  appealing  to  a  university  :  this  right  was  con- 
firmed by  the  Act  of  Confederation ;  and  even 
the  native  Forum,  if  it  find  difficulties  which  re- 
quire the  assistance  of  more  profound  juriscon- 
sults, may  send  the  case  for  judgment  to  a  uni- 
versity. In  all  such  appeals,  the  members  of 
the  juridical  faculty  become  judges;  they  have 
no  salary  for  this  part  of  their  duty,  but  they 
have  fees  paid  by  the  litigants ;  and  at  Jena  I 
have  heard  them  estimated  as  being  at  least 
equal  to  the  professorial  salary.  To  this  union 
of  the  bench  with  the  chair  are  undoubtedly  to 
be  ascribed,  in  some  measure,  the  distinguished 
legal  talents  which  have  at  all  times  adorned  the 
German  universities,  and  which,  in  the  present 
day,  are  far  from  being  extinct.  The  theoreti- 
cal studies  of  the  academician  are  thus  daily 
brought  to  the  test  of  practice  ;  he  sees  at  every 
moment  how  his  logical  deductions  work  in  the 
affairs  of  ordinary  life.  It  gave  the  prince  like- 
wise a  direct  interest  to  fill  these  chairs  with 


LAW. 

distinguished  men  ;  for,  the  greater  the  quantity 
of  profitable  business,  the  smaller  was  the  neces- 
sity for  supplying  or  increasing  salaries  at  his 
own  expence. 

The  lawyers  of  Jena  have  still  a  third  source 
of  toil  and  emolument,  equal  to  either  of  the 
preceding,  because  they  constitute  the  Oberap- 
pellatiuns-Gericht,  or  Supreme  Court  of  Appeal, 
not  only  for  the  grand  duchy,  but  likewise  for 
all  the  other  Saxon  Houses,  and  the  two  branch- 
es of  Reuss.  *  This  plurality  of  offices  is  not, 
perhaps,  very  favourable  to  the  independence  of 
the  judges ;  for,  though  not  removeable  from 
the  bench,  yet,  in  consequence  of  the  decision  of 
the  Landtag  already  referred  to,  they  can  be  re- 
moved from  their  chairs  at  the  pleasure  of  the 

*  By  the  Act  of  Confederation  it  is  provided,  that  every 
state  whose  population  does  not  amount  to  three  hundred 
thousand  souls,  shall  unite  itself  with  others  sufficiently 
populous  to  make  up  that  number,  for  the  erection  of  a 
common  Supreme  Court  of  Appeal.  The  jurisdiction  of 
that  of  Jena  extends  to  the  territories  of  Weimar,  Gotha, 
Cobourg,  Meinungen,  and  Hilburghausen ;  and  to  these 
have  been  added  the  petty  families  of  Reuss,  from  the 
proximity  of  their  territories  to  the  Saxon  duchies. 


152  JENA. 

Grand  Duke;  and  it  is  perfectly  natural,  that 
the  fears  of  the  removeable   professor  should 
have  some  influence  on  the  conduct  of  the  irre- 
moveable  judge.      The    poverty,    however,   of 
these  little  governments,  renders  such  an  accu- 
mulation of  offices  indispensable ;  for,  unless  a 
man  were  thus  allowed  to  insure  a  competency, 
the  finances  could  not  maintain  such  a  supreme 
tribunal  as  would  command  the  public  respect, 
and  place   its  members  above    the   temptation 
of  stooping  to  unworthy  gains.     The  proceed- 
ings in  all  cases  are  entirely  in   writing,    and 
not  a  human  being  is  admitted  to  witness  them. 
"  I  can  show  you  the  room,  the  table,  and 
the  chairs,"  said  a  member  of  the  court,  "  but  I 
can  do  nothing  more  for  you.11     It  is  strange 
enough,  that  though,  in  the  conflict  of  modern 
politics,  the  professors  of  Jena  have  been  cried 
down  as  being  leavened  with  a  portion  of  liberal- 
ism   approaching  to  treason,   yet  the  lawyers, 
with  all  their  talent  and  political  liberality,  dis- 
play a  rooted  dislike  to  trial  by  jury,  and  the 
publicity  of  judicial  proceedings.     The  labours 
of  Feuerbach,  however,  on  the  other  side,  have 
not  been  without  effect.     Though,  out  of  the 


MODE  OP  TEACHING.  153 

Rhenish  provinces,  I  never  found  an  open  court 
in  Germany,  except  at  Berlin,  the  conflict  of 
opinions  has  weakened  even  professional  preju- 
dices. The  same  lawyers  who  detest  juries,  are 
willing  to  admit  publicity  in  criminal  trials;  but 
they  cannot  think  of  it  with  patience  in  civil 
suits ;  first,  because  people  would  take  no  inter- 
est in  them  ;  second,  because,  though  they  did, 
they  would  not  understand  them ;  third,  because, 
though  they  did  understand  them,  they  have 
no  right  to  know  other  people's  private  affairs. 
It  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  say,  that  the 
mode  of  teaching  is  almost  entirely  the  same  as 
in  the  Scottish  Universities.  The  studenft  live 
where  they  choose,  and  how  they  choose,  having 
no  connection  with  the  University,  except  sub- 
jection to  its  discipline,  which  they  do  not  much 
regard,  and  attendance  at  the  appointed  hour 
in  the  Professor's  lecture-room,  where  nobody 
knows  whether  they  be  present  or  not.  The 
lectures  are  given  in  German  ;  and,  after  a  small 
theatre  like  that  of  Weimar,  there  are  few  surer 
means  of  mastering  this  beautiful,  but  difficult 
language,  than  to  attend  the  prelections  of  a 
Professor  on  some  popular  topic,  such  as  his- 


154  JENA. 

tory.  There  is  no  particular  university  build- 
ing set  apart  for  the  classes ;  at  least,  the  build- 
ing which  bears  the  name  is  not  applied  to  that 
purpose ;  it  only  contains  the  library  and  the 
jail.  Such  of  the  Professors  as  have  only  small 
classes  assemble  them  in  their  own  dwelling- 
houses.  Others,  who  can  boast  of  a  more  nu- 
merous auditory,  have  larger  halls  in  different 
parts  of  the  town.  There  is  not  a  class-room 
in  Jena  which  would  contain  more  than  two 
hundred  persons ;  and,  now  that  its  honours 
have  been  blighted,  that  is  a  greater  number 
than  any  of  its  learned  men  can  hope  to  col- 
lect. Till  of  late  years,  however,  the  Professor 
of  History,  an  extremely  able  and  popular  gen- 
tleman, used  to  have  a  much  more  numerous 
auditory.  When  he  occasionally  delivered  a 
ptiblicum,  the  overflowing  audience  filled  even 
the  court ;  the  windows  were  thrown  open,  and 
his  resounding  voice  was  heard  distinctly  in 
every  corner. 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  orderly  behaviour  of 
the  students  ;  they  seem  to  leave  all  their  oddities 
at  the  door.  Savage  though  they  be  esteemed,  a 
stranger  may  hospitize,  as  they  call  it,  among  them 


MODE  OF  TEACHING.  155" 

in  perfect  safety,  even  without  putting  himself  un- 
der the  wing  of  a  Professor.  Every  man  takes  his 
seat  quietly,  puts  his  bonnet  beneath  him,  or  in 
his  pocket,  unfolds  his  small  portfolio,  and  pro- 
duces an  inkhorn,  armed  below  with  a  sharp 
iron  spike,  by  which  he  fixes  it  firmly  in  the 
wooden  desk  before  him.  The  teacher  has 
notes  and  his  text-book  before  him,  but  the  lec- 
ture is  not  properly  read  ;  those,  at  least,  which 
I  heard,  were  spoken,  and  the  Professor  stood. 
This  mode  of  communication  is  only  advisable 
when  a  man  is  thoroughly  master  of  his  subject, 
but  is  perhaps  susceptible  of  much  more  effect 
than  a  recited  manuscript.  Above  all,  Martin, 
the  Professor  of  Criminal  Law,  and  Luden,  the 
Professor  of  History,  harangue  with  a  vivacity 
and  vehemence,  which  render  listlessness  or  in-, 
attention  impossible. 

Thus  the  hour  is  spent  in  listening,  and  it  is 
left  entirely  to  the  young  men  themselves  to 
make  what  use  they  may  think  proper,  or  no  use 
at  all,  of  what  they  have  heard ;  there  is  no 
other  superintendence  of  their  studies,  than  that 
of  the  Professor  in  his  pulpit,  telling  them  what 
he  himself  knows  ;  there  are  no  arrangements  to 


156  JENA. 

secure,  in  any  degree,  either  attendance  or  ap- 
plication ;  the  received  maxim  is,  that  it  is  right 
to  tell  them  what  they  ought  to  do,  but  it  would 
be  neither  proper  nor  useful  to  take  care  that 
they  do  it,  or  prevent  them  from  being  as  idle 
and  ignorant  as  they  choose. 

Once  outside  of  the  class-room,  the  Burschen 
show  themselves  a  much  less  orderly  race ;  if 
they  submit  to  be  ruled  one  hour  daily  by 
a  professor,  they  rule  him,  and  every  other 
person,  during  all  the  rest  of  the  four  and 
twenty.  The  duels  of  the  day  are  generally 
fought  out  early  in  the  morning ;  the  spare  hours 
of  the  forenoon  and  afternoon  are  spent  in  fenc- 
ing, in  renowning — that  is,  in  doing  things 
which  make  people  stare  at  them,  and  in  pro- 
viding duels  for  the  morrow.  In  the  evening, 
the  various  clans  assemble  in  their  commerz- 
houses,  to  besot  themselves  with  beer  and  tobac- 
co ;  and  it  is  long  after  midnight  before  the  last 
strains  of  the  last  songs  die  away  upon  the 
streets.  Wine  is  not  the  staple  beverage,  for 
Jena  is  not  in  a  wine  country,  and  the  students 
have  learned  to  place  a  sort  of  pride  in  drinking 


COMMERZ-HOUSES.  157 

beer.  Yet,  with  a  very  natural  contradiction, 
over  their  pots  of  beer  they  vociferate  songs  in 
praise  of  the  grape,  and  swing  their  j  ugs  with  as 
much  glee  as  a  Bursche  of  Heidelberg  brandishes 
his  romer  of  Rhenish.  Amid  all  their  multi- 
farious and  peculiar  strains  of  joviality,  I  never 
heard  but  one  in  praise  of  the  less  noble  li- 
quor :* 

Come,  brothers,  be  jovial,  while  life  creeps  along; 
Make  the  walls  ring  around  us  with  laughter  and  song. 
Though  wine,  it  is  true,  be  a  rarity  here, 
We'll  be  jolly  as  gods  with  tobacco  and  beer. 
Vivallerallerallera. 

Corpus  Juris,  avaunt !  To  the  door  with  the  Pandects  ! 
Away  with  Theology's  texts,  dogmas,  and  sects ! 
Foul  Medicine  begone  !  At  the  board  of  our  revels, 
Brothers,  Muses  like  these  give  a  man  the  blue  devils. 
Vivallerallerallera. 


*  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say,  that  these  rude  rhymes 
are  not  translated  from  any  idea  that  they  possess 
poetical  merit,  but  merely  to  show  the  character  of  the 
Burschen  strains,  and  of  the  academicians,  perhaps,  who 
compose  and  sing  them. 


158  JENA. 

/ 

One  can't  always  be  studying ;  a  carouse,  on  occasion, 
Is  a  sine  quo  nun  in  a  man's  education  ; 
One  is  bound  to  get  muddy  and  mad  now  and  then  ; 
But  our  beer  jugs  are  empty,  so  fill  them  again. 
Vivallerallerallera . 

A  band  of  these  young  men,  thus  assembled 
in  an  ale-house  in  the  evening,  presents  as 
strange  a  contrast  as  can  well  be  imagined  to  all 
correct  ideas,  not  only  of  studious  academical 
tranquillity,  but  even  of  respectable  conduct ; 
yet,  in  refraining  from  the  nightly  observances, 
they  would  think  themselves  guilty  of  a  less 
pardonable  dereliction  of  their  academic  charac- 
ter, and  a  more  direct  treason  against  the  inde- 
pendence of  Germany,  than  if  they  subscribed 
to  the  Austrian  Observer,  or  never  attended  for 
a  single  hour  the  lectures  for  which  they  paid. 
Step  into  the  public  room  of  that  inn,  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  market-place,  for  it  is  the 
most  respectable  in  the  town.  On  opening  the 
door,  you  must  use  your  ears,  not  your  eyes, 
for  nothing  is  yet  visible  except  a  dense  mass  of 
smoke,  occupying  space,  concealing  every  thing 
in  it  and  beyond  it,  illuminated  with  a  dusky 
light,  you  know  not  how,  and  sending  forth  from 


COMMEKZ-HOUSES.  159 

its  bowels  all  the  varied  sounds  of  mirth  and  re- 
velry. As  the  eye  gradually  accustoms  itself  to 
the  atmosphere,  human  visages  are  seen  dimly 
dawning  through  the  lurid  cloud  ;  then  pewter 
jugs  begin  to  glimmer  faintly  in  their  neigh- 
bourhood;  and,  as  the  smoke  from  the  phial 
gradually  shaped  itself  into  the  friendly  Asmo- 
deus,  the  man  and  his  jug  slowly  assume  a  de- 
fined and  corporeal  form.  You  can  now  totter 
along  between  the  two  long  tables  which  have 
sprung  up,  as  if  by  enchantment ;  by  the  time 
you  have  reached  the  huge  stove  at  the  farther 
end,  you  have  before  you  the  paradise  of  Ger- 
man Burschen,  destitute  only  of  its  Houris: 
every  man  with  his  bonnet  on  his  head,  a  pot  of 
beer  in  his  hand,  a  pipe  or  segar  in  his  mouth, 
and  a  song  upon  his  lips,  never  doubting  but 
that  he  and  his  companions  are  training  them- 
selves to  be  the  regenerators  of  Europe,  that 
they  are  the  true  representatives  of  the  manliness 
and  independence  of  the  German  character,  and 
the  only  models  of  a  free,  generous,  and  high- 
minded  youth.  They  lay  their  hands  upon 
their  jugs,  and  vow  the  liberation  of  Germany; 
they  stop  a  second  pipe,  or  light  a  second  se- 
12 


160 


JENA. 


gar,  and  swear  that  the  Holy  Alliance  is  an  un- 
clean thing. 

The  songs  of  these  studious  revellers  often 
bear  a  particular  character.  They  are,  indeed, 
mostly  convivial,  but  many  of  them  contain  a 
peculiar  train  of  feeling,  springing  from  their 
own  peculiar  modes  of  thinking,  hazy  aspira- 
tions after  patriotism  and  liberty,  of  neither  of 
which  they  have  any  idea,  except  that  every  de- 
vout Bursche  is  bound  to  adore  them,  and  mys- 
tical allusions  to  some  unknown  chivalry  that 
dwells  in  a  fencing  bout,  or  in  the  cabalistical 
ceremony,  with  which  the  tournament  concludes, 
of  running  the  weapon  through  a  hat.  Out  of 
a  university  town,  these  effusions  would  be  ut- 
terly insipid,  just  as  so  many  of  the  native  Ve- 
netian canzonette  lose  all  their  meaning,  when 
sung  any  where  but  in  Venice,  or  by  any  other 
than  a  Venetian.  Thus,  their  innumerable  hymns 
to  the  rapier,  or  on  the  moral,  intellectual,  and 
political  effects  of  climbing  up  poles  and  tossing 
the  bar,  would  be  unintelligible  to  all  who  do 
not  know  their  way  of  thinking,  and  must  ap- 
pear ridiculous  to  every  one  who  cannot  enter 
into  their  belief,  that  these  chivalrous  exercises 


STUDENT  SONGS.  161 

constitute  the  essence  of  manly  honour;  but 
they  themselves  chaunt-these  tournament  songs 
( Tournier-lieder)  with  an  enthusiastic  solem- 
nity which,  to  a  third  party,  is  irresistibly  ludi- 
crous. The  period  when  they  took  arms  against 
France  was  as  fertile  in  songs  as  in  deeds  of  va- 
lour. Many  of  the  former  are  excellent  in  their 
way,  though  there  was  scarcely  a  professional 
poet  in  their  band,  except  young  Korner. 
These,  with  the  more  deep  and  intense  strains 
of  Arndt,  will  always  be  favourites,  because 
they  were  the  productions  of  times,  and  of  a 
public  feeling  unique  in  the  history  of  Germany. 
Where  no  reference  is  made  to  fencing  tourna- 
ments, or  warlike  recollections,  there  is  never- 
theless the  distinct  impress  of  Burschen  feel- 
ings. 

The  following  may  be  taken  as  a  satisfactory 
example  of  the  ordinary  genus  of  university 
minstrelsy ;  it  is  by  way  of  eminence,  the  Hymn, 
or  Burchen  Song  of  Jena ;  it  contains  all  the 
texts  which  furnish  materials  for  the  amplifi- 
cation's of  college  rhymsters,  and  shows  better 
than  a  tedious  description  how  they  view  the 
world. 


JENA. 

Pledge  round,  brothers  ;  Jena  for  ever  !  huzza  ! 
The  resolve  to  be  free  is  abroad  in  the  land  ; 
The  Philistine  "  burns  to  be  joined  wilh  our  band, 

For  the  Burschen  are  free. 

Pledge  round  then  ;  our  country  for  ever  !  huzza ! 
While  you  stand  like  your  fathers  as  pure  and  as  true, 
Forget  not  the  debt  to  posterity  clue, 

For  the  Burschen  are  free. 

Pledge  round  to  our  Prince,  then,  ye  Burschen !  huzza  ! 
He  swore  our  old  honours  and  rights  to  maintain, 
And  we  vow  him  our  love  while  a  drop's  in  a  vein, 

For  the  Burschen  are  free. 

Pledge  round  to  the  love  of  fair  woman  !  huzza  ! 
If  there  be  who  the  feeling  of  woman  offends, 
For  him  is  no  place  among  freemen  or  friends  ; 

But  the  Burschen  are  free. 

Pledge  round  to  the  stout  soul  of  man,  too  I  huzza  ! 
Love,  singing,  and  wine,  are  the  proofs  of  his  might, 
And  who  knows  not  all  three  is  a  pitiful  wight  ; 

But  the  Burschen  are  free. 

Pledge  round  to  the  free  word  of  freemen  !  huzza ! 
Who  knows  what  the  truth  is,  yet  trembles  to  brave 
The  might  that  would  crush  it,  is  a  cowardly  slave ; 

But  the  Burschen  are  free. 


"  That  is,  the  people. 


STUDENT  SONGS.  163 

Pledge  round  then  each  bold  deed  for  ever  !  huzza ! 
Who  tremblingly  ponders  how  daring  may  end, 
Will  crouch  like  a  minion,  when  power  bids  him  bend  ; 

But  the  Burschen  are  free. 

Pledge  round  then,  the  Burschen  for  ever  !  huzza  ! 
Till  the  world  goes  in  rags,  when  the  last  day  comes 

o'er  us, 
Let  each  Bursche  stand  faithful,  and  join  in  our  chorus, 

The  Burschen  are  free. 

If  they  ever  give  vent  in  song  to  the  democra- 
tic and  sanguinary  resolves  which  are  averred 
to  render  them  so  dangerous,  it  must  be  in  their 
more  secret  conclaves ;  for,  in  the  strains  which 
enliven  their  ordinary  potations,  there  is  nothing 
more  definite  than  in  the  above  prosaic  effusion, 
There  are  many  vague  declamations  about  free- 
dom and  country,  but  no  allusions  to  particular 
persons,  particular  governments,  or  particular 
plans.  The  only  change  of  government  I  ever 
knew  proposed  in  their  cantilenes,  is  one  to 
which  despotism  itself  could  not  object. 

Let  times  to  come  come  as  they  may, 

And  empires  rise  and  fall ; 
Let  Fortune  rule  as  Fortune  will. 

And  wheel  upon  her  ball ; 


164  JENA. 

High  upon  Bacchus'  lordly  brow 

Our  diadem  shall  shine ; 
And  Joy,  we'll  crown  her  for  his  queen, 

Their  capital  the  Rhine. 

In  Heidelberg's  huge  tun  shall  sit 

The  Council  of  our  State, 
And  on  our  own  Johannisberg 

The  Senate  shall  debate. 
Amid  the  vines  of  Burgundy 

Our  Cabinet  shall  reign  ; 
Our  Lords  and  faithful  Commons  House 

Assemble  in  Champagne. 

Only  the  Cabinet  of  Constantinople  could  set  it- 
self, with  any  good  grace,  against  such  a  reform. 
But,  worse  than  idly  as  no  small  portion  of 
time  is  spent  by  the  great  body  of  the  academic 
youth  in  these  nightly  debauches,  this  is  only 
one,  and  by  no  means  the  most  distinguishing 
or  troublesome,  of  their  peculiarities ;  it  is  the 
unconquerable  spirit  of  clanship,  prevalent  among 
them,  which  has  given  birth  to  their  violence 
and  insubordination ;  for  it  at  once  cherishes  the 
spirit  of  opposition  to  all  regular  discipline,  and 
constitutes  an  united  body  to  give  that  opposi- 
tion effect.  The  house  of  Hanover  did  not 


LANDSMANNSCHAFTEN.  165 

find  more  difficulty  in  reducing  to  tranquillity 
the  clans  of  the  Highlands  of  Scotland  than  the 
Grand  Duke  of  Weimar  would  encounter  in 
eradicating  the  Landsmannschaften  from  among 
the  four  hundred  students  of  Jena,  and  inducing 
them  to  conduct  themselves  like  orderly,  well- 
bred  young  men.  The  Landsmannschaften 
themselves  are  by  no  means  a  modern  invention, 
though  it  is  believed,  that  the  secret  organiza- 
tion which  they  give  to  the  students  all  over 
Germany  has,  of  late  years,  been  used  to  new 
purposes.  The  name  is  entirely  descriptive  of 
the  thing,  a  Country manship,  an  association  of 
persons  from  the  same  country,  or  the  same 
province  of  a  country.  They  do  not  arise  from 
the  constitution  of  the  university,  nor  are  they 
acknowledged  by  it ;  on  the  contrary,  they  are 
proscribed  both  by  the  laws  of  the  university 
and  the  government  of  the  country.  They  do  not 
exist  for  any  academical  purpose,  for  the  young 
men  have  no  voice  in  any  thing  connected  with 
the  university  ;  to  be  a  member  of  one  is  an  aca- 
demical misdemeanour,  yet  there  are  few  stu- 
dents who  do  not  belong  to  one  or  another. 
They  are  associations  of  students  belonging  to 


166  JENA. 

the  same  province,  for  the  purpose  of  enabling 
each,  thus  backed  by  all,  to  carry  through 
his  own  rude  will,  let  it  be  what  it  may,  and,  of 
late  years,  it  is  averred,  to  propagate  wild  politi- 
cal reveries,  if  not  to  foment  political  cabals. 
They  are  regularly  organized  ;  each  has  its  pre- 
sident, clerk,  and  councillors,  who  form  what  is 
called  the  Convent  of  the  Landsmannschaft. 
This  body  manages  its  funds,  and  hasthe  di- 
rection of  its  affairs,  if  it  have  affairs.  It  like- 
wise enjoys  the  honour  of  fighting  all  duels  pro 
patria,  for  so  they  are  named  when  the  interest 
or  honour,  not  of  an  individual,  but  of  the  whole 
fraternity,  has  been  attacked.  The  assembled 
presidents  of  the  different  Landsmannschaften  in 
a  university  constitute  the  senior  convent.  This 
supreme  tribunal  does  not  interfere  in  the  pri- 
vate affairs  of  the  particular  bodies,  but  decides 
in  all  matters  that  concern  the  whole  mass  of 
Burschen,  and  watches  over  the  strict  observance 
of  the  general  academic  code  which  they  have  en- 
actedfor  themselves.  The  meetings  of  both  tribu- 
nals are  held  frequently  and  regularly,  but  with  so 
much  secrecy,  that  the  most  vigilant  police  has 
been  unable  to  reach  them.  They  have  cost 


LANDSMANNSCHAFTEN.  167 

many  a  professor  many  a  sleepless  night.  The 
governments  scold  the  senates,  as  if  they  trifled 
with,  or  even  connived  at  the  evil ;  the  senates 
lose  all  patience  with  the  governments  for  think- 
ing it  so  easy  a  matter  to  discover  what  Bur- 
schen  are  resolved  to  keep  concealed.  The  ex- 
ertions of  both  have  only  sufficed  to  drive  the 
Landsmannschaften  into  deeper  concealment. 
From  the  incessant  quarrels  and  uproars,  and 
the  instantaneous  union  of  all  to  oppose  any 
measure  of  general  discipline  about  to  be  enforc- 
ed, the  whole  senate  often  sees  plainly,  that 
these  bodies  are  in  active  operation,  without  be- 
ing able  either  to  ascertain  who  are  their  mem- 
bers, or  to  pounce  upon  their  secret  conclaves. 

Since  open  war  was  thus  declared  against 
them  by  the  government,  secrecy  has  become 
indispensable  to  their  existence,  and  the  Bursche 
scruples  at  nothing  by  which  this  secrecy  may 
be  insured.  The  most  melancholy  consequence  of 
this  is,  thati  as  every  man  is  bound  by  the  code  to 
esteem  the  preservation  of  the  Landsmannschaft 
his  first  duty,  every  principle  of  honour  is  often 
trampled  under  foot  to  maintain  it.  In  some 
universities  it  was  provided  by  the  code  that  a 


168  JENA. 

student,  when  called  before  the  senate  to  be  ex- 
amined about  a  suspected  Landsmannschaft,  ceas- 
ed to  be  a  member,  and  thus  he  could  safely  say 
that  he  belonged  to  no  such   institution.     In 
others,  it  was   provided,  that  such  an  inquiry 
should   operate   as   an    ipso  facto    dissolution 
of  the  body  itself,  till  the  investigation  should 
be  over ;   and  thus  every  member  could  safe- 
ly  swear  that  no  such  association  was  in  ex- 
istence.     There  are  cases  where  the  student, 
at  his  admission  into   the  fraternity,  gives  his 
word  of  honour  to  do  every  thing  in  his  power 
to  spread  a  belief  that  no  such  association  exists, 
and,  if  he  shall  be  questioned  either  by  the  se- 
nate or  the  police,  steadfastly  to  deny  it.     Here 
and  there  the  professors  fell  on  the  expedient  of 
gradually  extirpating  them,  by  taking  from  every 
new  student,  at  his  matriculation",  a  solemn  pro- 
mise that  he  would  not  join  any  of  these  bodies  ; 
but  where  such  principles  are  abroad,  promises 
are  useless,  for  deceit  is  reckoned  a  duty.     The 
more  moderate  convents  left  it  to  the  conscience 
of  the  party  himself  to  decide,  whether  he  was 
bound  in  honour  by  such  a  promise  ;   but  the 
code  of  Leipzig,  as  it  has  been  printed,  boldly 
declares  every  promise  of  this  kind  void,  and 


LANDSMANNSCHAFTEN.  169 

those  who  have  exacted  it  punishable.     More- 
over, it  invests  the  senior  convent,  in  general 
terms,  with  the  power  of  giving  any  man  a  dis- 
pensation from  his  word  of  honour,  if  it  shall 
see  cause,  but  confines  this  privilege,  in  money 
matters,  to  cases  where  he  has  been  enormouslv 
cheated.     Thus  the  code  of  university  Lands- 
mannschaften,  while  it  prates  of  nothing  but  the 
point  of  honour,  and  directs  to  that  centre  all  its 
fantastic  regulations,  sets  out  with  a  violation 
of  every  thing  honourable.     Such  are  the  tenets 
of  men  who  chatter  unceasingly  about  liberty 
and  patriotism,  and  have    perpetually  in  their 
mouths  such  phrases  as,  "  the  Burschen  lead  a 
free,   honourable,   and  independent  life  in  the 
cultivation  of  every  social  and  patriotic  virtue." 
Thus  do  moral  iniquities  become  virtues  in  their 
eyes,  if  they  forward  the  ends,  or  are  necessary 
to  the  continued  existence  of  a  worthless  and 
mischievous  association  ;  and  who  can  tell  how 
far  this  process  of  measuring  honour  by  imagin- 
ed  expediency  may  corrupt    the    whole  moral 
sense  ?     Is  it  wonderful  that  Sand,  taught  to 
consider  deceit,  prevarication,  or  breach  of  pro- 
mise as  virtues,  when  useful  to  a  particular  cause, 

VOL.  I.  H 


170  JENA. 

should  have  regarded  assassination  in  the  same 
light,  when  the  shedding  of  blood  was  to  conse- 
crate doctrines  which  he  looked  upon  as  holy  ? 

The  students  who  have  not  thought  proper  to 
join  any  of  these  associations  are  few  in  number, 
and,  in  point  of  estimation,  form  a  class  still  more 
despised  and  insulted  than  the  Philistines  them- 
selves. Every  Bursche  thinks  it  dishonourable 
to  have  communication  with  them  ;  they  are  ad- 
mitted to  no  carousal ;  they  are  debarred  from 
all  balls  and  public  festivals  by  which  the  youth 
contrive  to  make  themselves  notorious  and  ridi- 
culous. Such  privations  would  not  be  severely 
felt,  but  they  are  farther  exposed  to  every  spe- 
cies of  contempt  and  insult ;  to  abuse  them  is  an 
acceptable  service  to  Germany ;  in  the  class- 
room, and  on  the  street,  they  must  be  taught 
that  they  are  "  cowardly  slaves ;""  and  all  this, 
because  they  will  not  throw  themselves  into  the 
fetters  of  a  self-created  fraternity.  However 
they  may  be  outraged,  they  are  entitled  neither 
to  redress  nor  protection ;  should  any  of  them 
resent  the  maltreatment  heaped  upon  him,  he 
brings  down  on  himself  the  vengeance  of  the 
whole  *nass  of  initiated ;  for,  to  draw  every  man 


LANDSMAKNSCHAFTEN.  171 

within  the  circle  is  a  common  object  of  all 
the  clans ;  he  who  will  join  none  is  the  enemy 
of  all.  Blows,  which  the  Burschen  have  pro- 
scribed among  themselves,  as  unworthy  of  gen- 
tlemen, are  allowed  against  the  "  Wild  Ones," 
for  such  is  the  appellation  given  to  these 
quiet  sufferers,  from  the  caution  with  which  they 
must  steal  along,  trembling  at  the  presence  of  a 
Comment  Bursche,  and  exiled,  as  they  are, 
from  the  refined  intercourse  of  Commerz-houses 
to  the  wilds  and  deserts  of  civilized  society. 
Others,  unable  to  hold  out  against  the  insolence 
and  contempt  of  the  young  men  among  whom 
they  are  compelled  to  live,  in  an  evil  hour  seek 
refuge  beneath  the  wing  of  a  Landsmannschaft. 
These  are  named  Renoncen,  or  Renouncers. 
Having  renounced  the  state  of  nature,  they  stand, 
in  academical  civilization,  a  degree  above  the  ob- 
stinate "  Wild  Ones,1'  but  yet  they  do  not  ac- 
quire by  their  tardy  and  compelled  submission 
a  full  claim  to  all  Burschen  rights.  They  are 
merely  entitled  to  the  protection  of  the  fraterni- 
ty which  they  have  joined,  and  every  member 
of  it  will  run  every  man  through  the  body  who 
dares  to  insult  them,  in  word  or  deed,  otherwise 


172  JENA. 

than  is  prescribed  by  the  Burschen  code.  By 
abject  submission  to  the  will  of  their  imperious 
protectors,  they  purchase  the  right  of  being 
abused  and  stabbed  only  according  to  rule,  in- 
stead of  being  kicked  and  knocked  down  contra- 
ry to  all  rule. 

Associations  are  commonly  formed  for  pur- 
poses of  good  will  and  harmony ;  but  the 
very  object  of  the  Landsmannscliaften  is  quarrel- 
ling. So  soon  as  a  number  of  these  fraternities 
exist,  they  become  the  sworn  foes  of  each  other, 
except  when  a  common  danger  drives  them  to 
make  common  cause.  Each  aspires  at  being 
the  dominant  body  in  the  university,  and,  if  not 
the  most  respected,  at  least  the  most  feared  in 
the  town.  They  could  be  tolerated,  if  the  subject 
of  emulation  were,  which  should  produce  the 
greatest  number  of  decent  scholars;  it  would 
even  be  laudable  if  they  contended  which  should 
be  victor  at  cricket  or  foot-ball.  But  unfortu- 
nately, the  ambitious  contest  of  German  Bur- 
schen is  simply,  who  shall  be  most  successful  at 
retwwning)  that  is,  at  doing  something,  no  matter 
what,  which  will  make  people  stare  at  them,  and 
talk  about  them ;  or,  who  shall  produce  the 


LANDSMANNSCHAFTEN.  173 

greatest  number  of  scandals,  that  is,  who 
shall  fight  the  greatest  number  of  duels,  or  cause 
them  to  be  fought ;  or,  who  will  show  the  quick- 
est invention,  and  the  readiest  hand  in  resisting 
all  attempts,  civil  or  academical,  to  interfere 
with  their  vagaries.  If  opportunities  of  morti- 
fying each  other  do  not  occur,  they  must  be 
made ;  the  merest  trifles  are  sufficient  to  give  a 
pretext  for  serious  quarrels,  and  the  sword  is 
immediately  drawn  to  decide  them,  the  "  con- 
summation devoutly  to  be  wished,"  which  is  at 
bottom  the  grand  object  of  the  whole.  At  Jena 
the  custom  has  been  allowed  to  grow  up  of  per- 
mitting the  students  to  give  balls ;  the  Senate 
has  only  tried  to  make  them  decent,  by  confining 
them  to  the  Rose,  an  inn  belonging  to  the  Uni- 
versity, and  therefore  under  its  controul.  If 
they  be  given  anywhere  else,  the  Burschen  cannot 
expect  the  company  of  the  fashionable  ladies  of 
Jena,  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the  profes- 
sors. Now  a  Landsmannschaft  which  gives 
a  ball,  Renowns  superbly ;  it  makes  itself 
distinguished,  and  it  must,  therefore,  be  morti- 
fied. The  other  Burschen  station  themselves  at 
the  door,  or  below  the  windows ;  they  hoot, 


JENA. 

yell,  sing,  whistle,  and  make  all  sorts  of  infernal 
noises,  occasionally  completing  the  joke  by 
breaking  the  windows.  This  necessarily  brings 
up  an  abundant  crop  of  scandals ;  and  it  can 
easily  happen,  that  as  much  blood  is  shed  next 
morning,' as  there  was  negus  drunk  the  night  be- 
fore. A  Landsmannschaft  had  incautiously  an- 
nounced a  ball  before  engaging  the  musicians  ; 
the  others  immediately  engaged  the  only  band 
of  which  Jena  could  boast  for  a  concert  on  the 
same  evening.  The  dancers  would  have  been 
under  the  necessity  of  either  sacrificing  their 
fete,  or  bringing  over  an  orchestra  from  Wei- 
mar ;  but  the  quarrel  was  prevented  from 
coming  to  extremes  by  the  non-dancers  giving 
up  their  right  over  the  fiddlers,  on  condition 
that  the  ball  should  be  considered  as  given 
by  the  whole  body  of  Burschen,  not  by  any 
particular  fraternity.  A  number  of  students 
took  it  into  their  heads  to  erect  themselves  into 
an  independent  duchy,  which  they  named  after 
a  village  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Jena,  whither 
they  regularly  repaired  to  drink  beer.  He  who 
could  drink  most  was  elected  Duke,  and  the 
great  officers  of  his  court  were  appointed  in  the 


LANDSMANNSCHAFTEN.  175 

same  way,  according  to  their  capacity  for  liquor. 
To  complete  the  farce,  they  paraded  the  town. 
Though  all  this  might  be  extremely  good  for 
sots  and  children,  in  students  it  was  exquisitely 
ridiculous  ;  but  it  attracted  notice ;  it  was  a  piece 
of  successful  renowning,  and  their  brethren 
could  not  tamely  submit  to  be  thrown  into  the 
shade.  A  number  of  others  forthwith  erected 
themselves  into  a  free  town  of  the  empire ;  took 
their  name  from  another  neighbouring  village ; 
elected  their  Burgomaster,  Syndic,  and  Coun- 
cillors, and,  habited  in  the  official  garb  of  Ham- 
burgh or  Frankfort,  made  their  procession  on 
foot,  to  mark  their  contempt  of  ducal  pomp, 
and  point  themselves  out  as  industrious  frugal 
citizens.  The  two  parties  now  came  in  contact 
with  each  other;  and  it  was  daily  expected, 
that  their  reciprocal  caricatures,  like  angry  ne- 
gotiations, would  prove  the  forerunners  of  an 
open  war  between  his  Serene  Highness  and  the 
Free  Town. 

The  individual  Bursche,  in  his  academical 
character,  is  animated  by  the  same  paltry,  ar- 
rogant, quarrelsome,  domineering  disposition. 
When  fairly  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  his  sect, 


176  JENA. 

no  rank  can  command  respect  from  him,  for  he 
knows  no  superior  to  himself  and  his  comrades. 
A  few  years  ago,  the  Empress  of  Russia,  when 
she  was  at  Weimar,  visited  the  University  Mu- 
seum of  Jena.  Among  the  students  who  had 
assembled  to  see  her,  one  was  observed  to  keep 
his  bonnet  on  his  head,  and  his  pipe  in  his 
mouth,  as  her  Imperial  Majesty  passed.  The 
Prorector  called  the  young  man  before  him,  and 
remonstrated  with  him  on  his  rudeness.  The 
defence  was  in  the  genuine  spirit  of  Burschenism : 
"  I  am  a  free  man;  what  is  an  Empress  to 
me  ?"  Full  of  lofty  unintelligible  notions  of  his 
own  importance  and  high  vocation ;  misled  by 
ludicrously  erroneous  ideas  of  honour ;  and  hur- 
ried on  by  the  example  of  all  around  him, 
the  true  Bursche  swaggers  and  renowns,  cho- 
leric, raw,  and  overbearing.  He  measures  his 
own  honour,  because  his  companions  measure  it, 
by  the  number  of  scandals  he  has  fought,  but 
neither  he  nor  they  ever  waste  a  thought  on 
what  they  have  been  fought  for.  To  have 
fought  unsuccessfully  is  bad  ;  but,  if  he  wishes 
to  become  a  respected  and  influential  personage, 
not  to  have  fought  at  all  is  i  nfinitely  worse.  He, 


THE  COMMENT.  177 


therefore,  does  not  fight  to  resent  insolence,  but 
he  insults,  or  takes  offence,  that  he  may  havea 
pretext  for  fighting.  The  lecture-rooms  are 
but  secondary  to  the  fencing- school ;  that  is  his 
temple,  the  rapier  is  his  god,  and  the  Com- 
ment is  the  gospel  by  which  he  swears. 

This  Comment,  as  it  is  called,  is  the  Burschen 
Pandects,  the  general  code  to  which  all  the 
Landsmannschaften  are  subject.  However  nu- 
merous the  latter  maybe  in  a  university,  there 
is  but  one  comment,  and  this  venerable  body  of 
law  descends  from  generation  to  generation,  in 
the  special  keeping  of  the  senior  convent.  It  is 
the  holy  volume,  whose  minutest  regulations 
must  neither  be  questioned  nor  slighted.  What 
it  allows  cannot  be  wrong ;  what  it  prohibits 
cannot  be  right.  "  He  has  no  comment  in 
him,'1  used  to  be  a  proverbial  expression  for  a 
stupid  fellow.  It  regulates  the  mode  of  election 
of  the  superior  officers,  fixes  the  relation  of 
"  Wild  Ones11  and  "  Renouncers11  to  the  true 
Burschen,  and  of  the  Burschen  to  each  other ; 
it  provides  punishments  for  various  offences,  and 
commonly  denounces  excommunication  against 
thieves  and  cheaters  at  play,  especially  if  the 

H2 


178  JENA. 

cheating  be  of  any  very  gross  kind.     But  the 
point  of  honour  is  its  soul.     The  comment  is, 
in  reality,  a  code,  arranging  the  manner  in  which 
Burschen  shall  quarrel  with  each  other,  and  how 
the  quarrel,  once  begun,  shall  be  terminated.    It 
fixes,  with  the  most  pedantic  solicitude,  a  gra- 
duated scale  of  offensive  words,  and  the  style  and 
degree  of  satisfaction  that  may  be  demanded  for 
each.     The  scale  rises,  or  is  supposed  to  rise,  in 
enormity,  till  it  reaches  the  atrocious  expression, 
Dummer  Junge,  (stupid  youth,)  which  contains 
within  itself  every  possible  idea  of  insult,  and 
can  be  atoned  for  only  with  blood.     The  parti- 
cular degrees  of  the  scale  may  vary  in  different 
universities ;  but  the  principle  of  its  construction 
is  the  same  in  all,  and  in  all  "  stupid  youth"  is 
the  boiling  point.     If  you  are  assailed  with  any 
epithet  which  stands  below  stupid  youth  in  the 
scale  of  contumely,  you  are  not  bound  immedi- 
ately to  challenge ;   you  may  "  set  yourself  in 
advantage ;""  that  is,  you  may  retort  on  the  of- 
fender with  an  epithet  which  stands  higher  than 
the  one  he  has  applied  to  you.  Then  your  oppo- 
nent may  retort,  if  you  have  left  him  room,  in  the 
same  way,  by  rising  a  degree  above  you  ;  and 


THE  COMMENT.  179 

thus  the  courteous  terms  of  the  comment  may 
be  bandied  between  you,  till  one  or  the  other 
finds  only  the  highest  step  of  the  ladder  unoc- 
cupied, and  is  compelled  to  pronounce  the  "  stu- 
pid youth,"  to  which  there  is  no  reply  but  a 
challenge.  I  do  not  say  that  this  is  the  ordinary 
practice  ;  in  general,  it  comes  to  a  challenge  at 
once ;  but  such  is  the  theory  of  the  Comment. 
Whoever  submits  to  any  of  these  epithets,  with- 
out either  setting  himself  in  advantage,  or  giv- 
ing a  challenge,  is  forthwith  punished  by  the 
convent  with  verschiss,  or  the  lesser  excom- 
munication ;  for  there  is  a  temporary  and  a  per- 
petual cerschiss,  something  like  the  lesser  and 
greater  excommunication  in  ecclesiastical  dis- 
cipline. He  may  recover  his  rights  and  his  ho- 
nour, by  fighting,  within  a  given  time,  with  one 
member  of  each  of  the  existing  Landsmann- 
schaften  ;  but  if  he  allows  the  fixed  time  to  pass 
without  doing  so,  the  sentence  becomes  irrevoc- 
able :  no  human  power  can  restore  him  to  his 
honours  and  his  rights  ;  he  is  declared  infamous 
for  ever;  the  same  punishment  is  denounced 
against  all  who  hold  intercourse  with  him ; 
every  mode  of  insult,  real  or  verbal,  is  permit, 


180  JENA. 

ted  and  laudable  against  him  ;  he  is  put  to  the 
ban  of  this  academical  empire,  and  stands  alone 
among  his  companions,  the  butt  of  unceasing 
scorn  and  contumely. 

In  the  conduct  of  the  duel  itself,  the  comment 
descends  to  the  minutest  particulars.  The  dress, 
the  weapons,  the  distance,  the  value  of  different 
kinds  of  thrusts,  the  length  to  which  the  arm 
shall  be  bare,  and  a  thousand  other  minutiae, 
are  all  fixed,  and  have,  at  least,  the  merit  of  pre- 
venting every  unfair  advantage.  In  some  uni- 
versities the  sabre,  in  others  the  rapier,  is  the 
academical  weapon  ;  pistols  nowhere.  The  wea- 
pon used  at  Jena  is  what  they  call  a  Scldager. 
It  is  a  straight  blade,  about  three  feet  and  a 
half  long,  and  three-cornered  like  a  bayonet. 
The  hand  is  protected  by  a  circular  plate  of  tin, 
eight  or  ten  inches  in  diameter,  which  some  bur- 
lesque poets,  who  have  had  the  audacity  to 
laugh  at  Burschenism,  have  profaned  with  the 
appellation  of  "  The  Soup  Plate  of  Honour." 
The  handle  can  be  separated  from  the  blade, 
and  the  soup  plate  from  both, — all  this  for  pur- 
poses of  concealment.  The  handle  is  put  in  the 
pocket ;  the  plate  is  buttoned  under  the  coat ;  the 


DUELS.  181 

blade  is  sheathed  in  a  walking-stick ;  and  thus 
the  parties  proceed  unsuspected  to  the  place  of 
combat,  as  if  they  were  going  out  for  a  morning 
stroll.  The  tapering  triangular  blade,  neces- 
sarily becomes  roundish  towards  the  point; 
therefore,  no  thrust  counts,  unless  it  be  so  deep 
that  the  orifice  of  the  wound  is  three-cornered  ; 
for,  as  the  Comment  has  it,  "  no  affair  is  to  be 
decided  in  a  trifling  and  childish  way  merely  pro 
forma"  Besides  the  seconds,  an  umpire  and 
a  surgeon  must  be  present ;  but  the  last  is  al- 
ways a  medical  student,  that  he  may  be  under 
the  comment-obligation  to  secrecy.  All  parties 
present  are  bound  not  to  reveal  what  passes, 
without  distinction  of  consequences,  if  it  has 
been  fairly  done ;  the  same  promise  is  exacted 
from  those  who  may  come  accidentally  to  know 
any  thing  of  the  matter ;  to  give  information  or 
evidence  against  a  Bursche,  in  regard  to  any 
thing  not  contrary  to  the  Comment,  is  an  inex- 
piable offence.  Thus  life  may  easily  be  lost 
without  the  possibility  of  discovery  ;  for  autho- 
rity is  deprived,  as  far  as  possible,  of  every 
means  by  which  it  might  get  at  the  truth.  It  is 
perfectly  true,  that  mortal  combats  are  not 

12 


182  JENA. 

frequent,  partly  from  the  average  equality  of 
skill,  every  man  being  in  the  daily  practice  of 
his  weapon,  partly,  because  there  is  often  no 
small  portion  of  gasconade  in  the  warlike  propen- 
sities of  these  young  persons ;  yet  neither  are 
they  so  rare  as  many  people  imagine.  It  does 
not  often  happen,  indeed,  that  either  of  the  par- 
ties is  killed  on  the  spot,  but  the  wounds  often 
superinduce  other  mortal  ailments,  and  still 
more  frequently,  lay  the  foundation  of  diseases 
which  cling  to  the  body  through  life.  A  profes- 
sor, who  perhaps  has  had  better  opportunities  of 
learning  the  working  of  the  system  than  any  of 
his  colleagues,  assured  me,  that  instances  are  by 
no  means  rare,  of  young  men  carrying  home  con- 
sumption with  them,  in  consequence  of  slight 
injuries  received  in  the  lungs.  On  the  occasion 
of  the  last  fatal  duel  at  Jena,  the  government  of 
Weimar  gave  this  gentleman  a  commission  to 
inquire  into  the  affair.  He  declined  it,  unless 
he  were  armed,  at  the  same  time,  to  act  against 
the  Landsmannschaften  generally.  On  receiv- 
ing this  power,  he  seized  a  number  of  their 
Schlager,  and  sent  to  jail  a  score  of  those  whom 
he  believed  to  be  most  active  in  the  confraterni- 


LAXDSMANNSCHAFIEN.  183 

ties.  But  the  impression  of  this  unwonted  ri- 
gour was  only  temporary  ;  they  became  more  se- 
cret, but  not  at  all  less  active. 

Yet,  let  it  only  become  necessary  to  oppose 
the  inroads  of  discipline,  to  punish  the  towns- 
men, or  do  some  extravagant  thing,  that  will 
astound  the  governments,  and  these  bodies,  which 
thus  live  at  daggers- drawing  with  each  other, 
are  inseparable.  They  take  their  measures  with 
a  secrecy  which  no  vigilance  has  hitherto  been 
able  to  penetrate,  and  an  unanimity  which 
has  scarcely  been  tainted  by  a  single  trea- 
son. The  mere  townsmen  are  objects  of  su- 
preme contempt  to  the  Bursche ;  for,  from  the 
moment  he  enters  the  university,  he  looks  on 
himself  as  belonging  to  a  class  set  apart  for  some 
peculiarly  high  vocation,  and  vested  with  no  less 
a  privilege  than  that  of  acknowledging  no  law 
but  their  own  will.  The  citizens  he  denominates 
Philistines,  and  considers  them  to  exist  only  to 
fear,  honour,  and  obey  the  chosen  people  of 
whom  he  himself  is  one.  The  greater  part  of 
the  inhabitants  are  dependent  on  those  who  at- 
tend the  university,  in  some  professional  shape  or 
other,  and  must  have  the  fear  of  the  Burschen 


184  JENA. 

daily  and  nightly  before  their  eyes.  To  mur- 
mur at  the  caprices  of  the  chosen  tribes,  to  laugh 
at  their  mummeries,  or  seriously  resist  and  re- 
sent their  arrogance,  would  only  expose  the  un- 
happy Philistine  to  the  certainty  of  having  his 
head  and  his  windows  broken  together  ;  for  he 
has  no  rights,  as  against  a  Bursche,  not  even 
that  of  giving  a  challenge,  unless  he  be  a  noble- 
man or  a  military  officer.  When  the  Burschen 
are  in  earnest,  no  civil  police  is  of  any  earthly 
use ;  they  would  as  little  hesitate  to  attack  it  as 
they  would  fail  in  putting  it  to  flight.  I  saw 
Leipzig  thrown  into  confusion,  one  night,  by  the 
students  attempting  to  make  themselves  masters 
of  the  person  of  a  soldier  who,  they  believed, 
had  insulted  one  of  their  brethren  in  a  quarrel 
on  the  street  about  some  worthless  woman.  Al- 
though it  was  late,  the  offended  party  had  been 
able  speedily  to  collect  a  respectable  number  of 
academic  youth,  to  attack  the  guard-house ;  for 
a  well  trained  Bursche  knows  the  commerz- 
houses,  where  his  comrades  nightly  congregate 
to  drink,  smoke,  and  sing,  as  certainly  as  a  well 
trained  police  officer  knows  the  haunts  of  thieves 
and  pickpockets. 


THE  BURSCHENSCHAFT.  185 

The  most  imminent  danger  which  the  Lands- 
mannschaften  have  hitherto  encountered,  arose 
from  the  students  themselves.  The  academical 
youth  seemed  to  have  brought  back  from  the 
campaigns  of  1813  and  1814,  a  spirit  of  more 
manly  union ;  and,  perhaps,  an  earnest  contest 
against  French  bayonets  had  taught  them  to 
look  with  less  prejudiced  eyes  on  the  paltriness 
of  their  own  ridiculous  squabbles.  A  few  lead- 
ing heads  at  Jena  proposed  that  the  Lands- 
mannschaften  should  be  abolished,  and  the  Com- 
ment abrogated  ;  not,  however,  with  the  view  of 
crushing  all  associations,  but  that  the  whole  body 
of  the  students  might  be  united  in  one  general 
brotherhood,  under  a  new  and  more  reasonable 
constitution.  The  Landsmannschaften  did  not 
yield  without  a  struggle,  but  the  Burschen- 
schaft  (for  so  they  baptized  the  new  association, 
because  it  comprehended  all  Burschen)  finally 
triumphed  ;  renowning  dwindled  away,  and  ve- 
nerable dust  began  to  settle  on  the  Comment. 
It  is  agreed  on  all  hands,  that,  during  the  exist- 
ence of  this  body,  the  manners  of  the  university 
improved.  In  the  investigation  afterwards  in- 
stituted by  the  Diet,  the  Professors  bore  witness, 


186  JENA. 

that  greater  tranquillity,  order,  and  respect  for 
the  laws,  had  never  been  manifested  in  Jena, 
than  under  the  Burschenschaft.  There  was  no- 
thing compulsory  in  it ;  no  constraint  was  used, 
no  insult  or  contempt  was  permitted  towards 
those  who  did  not  choose  to  join  it.  So  far  was 
it  already  advanced  in  civilization,  in  comparison 
with  the  former  brotherhoods,  that  besides  pro- 
hibiting the  introduction  of  dogs  into  its  solemn 
assemblies,  it  would  allow  no  man  either  to 
smoke,  or  to  remain  covered  in  them.  It  was 
even  provided,  that  the  orator  should  turn  his 
face  to  the  Burschen  while  he  was  addressing 
them,  and  take  his  seat  again  when  he  had 
finished.  *  This  spirit  of  uniformity,  going  out 
from  Jena,  shook  the  old  institutions  in  other 
universities ;  till  at  length,  when  the  students 
had  assembled  from  every  corner  of  Germany 
in  1817,  to  celebrate  on  the  Wartburg  the  an- 
niversary of  the  Reformation,  and  the  battle  of 


•  Seriously,  these  were  all  regulations  of  the  Bur- 
schenschaft of  Jena.  We  may  judge  from  them  of  the 
decorum  which  reigns  iu  a  Landsmannschaft  meeting. 


THE  BUBSCHENSCHAFT.  187 

Leipzig,  the  destruction  of  the  Landsmann- 
schaften  was  unanimously  voted,  and  the  all-com- 
prehending Burschenschaft  was  to  take  their 
place.  But  this  proved  its  ruin.  It  had  been 
resolved,  not  merely  to  melt  into  one  organized 
association  the  whole  body  of  students  in  their 
respective  universities,  but  to  form  a  supreme 
council  of  delegates  from  them  all,  to  direct  and 
give  unity  to  the  whole.  The  fears  which  the 
governments  had  long  entertained,  that  political 
objects  were  concealed  beneath  the  Burschen- 
schaft, now  became  certainty.  The  organization 
of  the  body,  and  the  regular  contributions  by 
which  funds  were  to  be  created ;  the  resolution 
to  wear  the  sword  and  plume  as  the  proper  or- 
naments of  a  chivalrous  student,  and  to  adopt  a 
sort  of  uniform  in  the.  singular  dress  which  is 
still  so  common  among  them,  were  all  regarded, 
if  not  as  indications  of  dangerous  designs,  at 
least  as  instruments  which  could  easily  be  used 
for  dangerous  purposes.  The  very  language 
in  which  they  announced  their  objects,  so  far  as 
any  distinct  idea  could  be  drawn  from  its  mys- 
tical verbosity,  covered  them  with  political  sus-* 


168  JENA. 

picion.  *  The  words  country,  freedom,  and 
independence,  were  perpetually  in  their  mouths ; 
and  people  naturally  asked,  how  is  this  new  Ger- 
manic Academic  Diet  to  benefit  any  one  of  the 
three  ?  What  means  this  regular  array  of  depu- 
ties and  committees  among  persons  who  have 
no  duty  but  that  of  prosecuting  their  studies  ? 
To  what  end  this  universal  Burschen  Tribunal, 
which  is  to  extend  its  decrees  from  Kiel  to  Tu- 
bingen, and  conduct  the  movements  of  a  com- 
bined body  from  the  shores  of  the  Baltic  to  the 
foot  of  the  Alps  ?  These  questions  were  in  every 
body's  mouth  ;  and  it  is  unjust  to  say  that  they 

*  I  can  only  assure  the  reader,  that  the  following  de- 
claration in  the  constitution  of  the  Universal  Burschen- 
schaft  is  as  accurately  translated  as  I  myself  could  under- 
stand it.  "  The  Universal  German  Burschen schaft 
comes  into  life,  by  presenting  an  ever  improving  picture 
of  its  countrymen  blossoming  into  freedom  and  unity  ; 
by  maintaining  a  popular  Burschen  life,  in  the  cultivation 
of  every  corporeal  and  intellectual  power;  by  preparing 
its  members  for  a  popular  life  in  a  free,  equal,  and  well- 
ordered  community,  so  that  every  one  may  rise  to  such  a 
degree  of  self-consciousness,  as  to  represent,  in  his  pure 
personality,  the  brightness  of  the  excellency  of  a  German 
popular  life." 


THE  BURSCHENSCHAFT.  189 

were  merely  politic  alarms  sounded  by  the 
minions  of  suspicious  and  oppressive  govern- 
ments. He  must  be  a  credulous  man  who  can 
believe,  that  from  eight  to  ten  thousand  students, 
animated  by  the  political  ardour  which,  of  late 
years,  has  pervaded  all  the  universities  of  Ger- 
many, could  be  thus  organized,  without  becom- 
ing troublesome  to  the  public  tranquillity  ;  and 
he  must  be  a  very  imprudent  man,  who  could 
wish  to  see  the  work  of  political  regeneration, 
even  where  it  is  needed,  placed  in  such  hands. 
Members  of  the  university  of  Jena  itself,  who 
are  no  lovers  of  despotism,  do  not  conceal  their 
conviction,  that,  although  the  founders  of  the 
Burschenschaft  were  sincere  in  their  desires  to 
abolish  the  old  murderous  distinctions,  yet  they 
laboured  after  this  union,  only  with  the  view  of 
using  it  as  a  political  instrument.  The  govern- 
ments denounced  the  new  associations  ;  in  Jena 
they  had  first  breathed,  and  in  Jena  they  first 
expired.  The  Burschenschaft  obeyed  the  order 
of  the  Grand  Duke  for  its  abolition.  The 
Landsmannschaften  immediately  came  forth 
from  their  graves  ;  the  Comment  once  more  be- 


190  JENA. 

came  the  rule  of  faith  and  life  ;  renowning  and 
scandalizing  reassumed  their  ancient  honours ; 
and,  as  formerly,  the  Burschen  still  quarrel  and 
fight,  and  swear  loudly  to  make  good  their 
"  academical  liberty." 

It  is  amusing  to  listen  to  the  pompousness 
with  which  these  young  men  speak  of  this  Aka- 
demische  Freyheit,v?l\en  it  is  known  that  it  means 
precisely  nothing.  To  judge  from  the  lofty  pe- 
riods in  which  they  declaim  about  the  blessings 
it  has  showered  on  the  country,  and  the  sacred 
obligations  by  which  they  are  bound  to  maintain 
it,  we  would  conclude  that  it  invests  them  with 
no  ordinary  franchises ;  while,  in  truth,  it  gives 
them  nothing  that  any  other  man  would  wish  to 
have.  To  be  dressed,  and  to  look  like  no  other 
person  ;  to  let  his  beard  grow,  where  every  good 
Christian  shaves  ;  to  let  his  tangled  locks  crawl 
down  upon  his  shoulders,  where  every  well-bred 
man  wears  his  hair  short ;  to  clatter  along  the 
streets  in  monstrous  jack-boots,  loaded  with 
spurs,  which,  from  their  weight  and  size,  have 
acquired  the  descriptive  appellation  of  pound- 
spurs  ;  to  rub  the  elbow  of  his  coat  against  the 


ACADEMICAL  LIBERTY.  191 

wall  till  he  has  made  a  hole  in  it,  *  where  ordi- 
nary people  think  it  more  respectable  to  wear  a 
coat  without  holes ;  to  stroll  through  the  streets 
singing,  when  all  decent  citizens  are  in  bed ;  to 
join  his  pot  companions  nightly  in  the  ale-house, 
and  besot  himself  with  beer  and  tobacco ;  these, 
and  things  like  these,  are  the  ingredients  in  the 
boasted  academical  freedom  of  a  German  stu- 
dent.    In  every  thing  connected  with  the  uni- 
versity, he  has  neither  voice  nor  influence ;  in 
this  respect,  a  boy  of  the  Greek  or  Latin  class 
at  Glasgow,  when  he  gives  his  vote  for  the  Rec- 
tor Magnificus,  is  entitled  to  look   down  with 
contempt  on  the  brawling  braggers  of  Gottin- 
gen    or    Jena.       These    modes    of  liberty    the 
Bursche  enjoys  in  common  with  every  silly  or 
clownish  fellow  in  the  country  ;  for  they  consist 
merely  in  being  singular,  ridiculous,  and  ill-bred, 
where  other  people,  who  have  the  same  right., 
choose  to  act  otherwise.  TheLandsmannschaften 
themselves  are  tyrannical  in  their  very  essence.  So 
far  from  being  his  own  master,  the  Bursche  is 


*  This  actually  occurred  in  Jena ;  it  was  Renowning  ; 
it  was  something  to  be  stared  at. 


'JENA. 

chained  in  word  and  deed  ;  he  is  tied  down  by 
the  strict  forms  of  a  fantastic  code  which  he 
did  not  frame,  which  he  cannot  alter,  to  which 
he  has  not  even  voluntarily  submitted  himself, 
and  from  which  its  provisions  deny  him  the 
power  of  withdrawing.  Dread  of  the  contume- 
ly that  is  heaped  on  a  "  Wild  One,"  or  of  the 
still  more  lamentable  slavery  which  awaits  a  "  Re- 
nouncer,r>  forces  him  into  the  fraternity  ;  and, 
once  within  the  toils,  he  is  not  allowed  to  break 
loose,  however  galling  they  may  be  to  his  feel- 
ings, or  revolting  to  his  judgment.  Yet  amid 
the  very  rattling  of  their  chains,  these  men  have 
the  impudence  to  prate  about  liberty  as  their 
distinguishing  privilege. 

It  is  itself,  however,  no  slight  peculiarity, 
that  all  these  peculiarities  do  not  last  longer  than 
three  years.  When  the  student  has  finished  hi> 
curriculum,  and  leaves  the  university,  he  is  him- 
self numbered  among  the  Philistines ;  the  pre- 
judices, the  fooleries,  and  hot-headed  forward- 
ness of  the  Bursche  depart  from  him,  as  if  he 
were  waking  from  a  dream  ;  he  returns  to  the 
ordinary  modes  of  thinking  and  acting  in  the 
world ;  he  probably  never  wields  a  rapier  again, 


ACADEMICAL  LIBERTY.  193 

or  quarrels  with  a  mortal,  till  his  dying  day ;  he 
falls  into  his  own  place  in  the  bustling  competi- 
tion of  society,  and  leads  a  peaceful  industrious 
life,  as  his  fathers  did  before  him.     His  politi- 
cal chimeras,  too,  like  all  the  rest  of  his  oddities, 
are  much  less  connected  with  principle  than  his 
turbulence  would  seem  to  imply  ;  they  are  modes 
of  speech,  which,  like  the  shapeless  coats,  and 
daily  fencing  matches,  it  has  become  the  fashion 
of  the  place  to  adopt,  rather  than  any  steady 
feeling  or  solid  conviction.     The  Burschen  pe- 
culiarities are  taken  up  because  they  belong  to 
the  sort  of  life  to  which  the  person  is,  for  a  time, 
consigned ;  but  they  do  not  adhere  to  the  man, 
or  become  abiding  parts  of  his  character ;   once 
beyond  the  walls  of  the  town,  and  they  fall  from 
him  with  the  long  hair.     Were  it  otherwise,  the 
consequences  would  already  have  been  visible. 
Did  these  young  men  carry  out  into  the  world 
the  same  vague  and  heated  ideas,  and  the  same 
dangerous  readiness  to  act  upon  them,  which  are 
reckoned  part  of  their  duties  at  college,  it  might 
furnish  good  grounds  for  the  political  precau- 
tions of  alarmed  governments,  but  it  would  like- 
wise render  them  unavailing ;  for  the  great  mass 

VOL.  I.  I 


194  JENA. 

of  the  people  would  speedily  be  leavened. 
These  are  the  very  men,  who,  in  many  cases, 
form  the  army,  who  instruct  the  people,  who  oc- 
cupy all  the  lower,  and  not  a  few  of  the  higher 
departments  in  the  provincial  governments. 
Tliere  does  not  seem  to  be  much  more  reason  to 
fear  that  a  swaggering  and  unruly  German 
Bursche  will  become  a  quarrelsome  and  riotous 
German  citizen,  than  there  would  be  to  appre- 
hend that  a  boy  of  Eton  would  grow  up  to  be  a 
radical  leader  in  Parliament,  because  at  school  he 
had  borne  a  share  in  a  barring  out. 

The  decay  of  discipline  which  disfigures  most 
of  the  universities,  and  the  manifold  forms  of  li- 
centiousness and  insubordination  that  have  ne- 
cessarily arisen  from  it,  are  intimately  connected 
with  the  jurisdiction  of  the  university.  The  se- 
nate possessed  exclusive  jurisdiction  in  civil  caus- 
es, as  well  as  in  criminal  prosecutions ;  it  wielded 
likewise  all  the  powers  of  police  over  this  portion 
of  the  community.  In  capital  offences,  if  any 
such  occurred,  the  criminal  was  generally  turned 
over  to  the  regular  authorities ;  but  in  all  others 
he  was  amenable  to  no  other  court  than  the 
Prorector  and  Senate  of  his  universitv.  The 


ACADEMICAL  JURISDICTION.  195 

modes  of  punishment  were  fines,  expulsion,  or 
imprisonment;  for  every  German  university  has 
a  gaol  attached  to  it,  though  the  durance  is  not 
very  severe  in  itself,  and,  in'  the  eyes  of  the 
Burschen,  is  attended  with  no  disgrace.  They 
do  not  think  the  less  of  a  man  because  he  has 
been  sent  to  the  college  prison  for  some  act  of 
insubordination  ;  it  raises  his  character  as  a  prov- 
ed, tried  Bursche ;  it  tells  for  him  like  a  feat  of 
Renowning;  it  adds  as  much  to  his  academic 
glory  as  if  he  had  "  tweaked  a  Philistine."  He 
moves  to  his  dungeon  "  with  military  glee,1'  per- 
fectly aware,  that,  by  a  little  inconvenience,  he 
is  purchasing  much  influence  and  respectability 
amo  -'^is  companions. 

It  is  long  since  doubts  began  to  be  entertain- 
ed of  the  efficiency  of  this  distinct  and  exclusive 
jurisdiction  in  the  persons  of  the  professors. 
They  originated  in  the  laxity  with  which  the 
power  has  been  exercised ;  and  this  ruinous 
laxity  is  inherent  in  the  system.  Notwithstand- 
ing all  that  has  been  written  and  said  in  its  de- 
fence, it  must  be  manifest  to  every  one  who 
knows  the  German  universities,  that,  in  point  of 
fact,  it  has  done  mischief,  and  may  be  ranked 


196  JENA. 

among  the  principal  causes  of  the  decay  of  dis- 
cipline. Where  students  live  in  the  manner  de- 
scribed, and  the  maintenance  of  the  public  peace, 
as  well  as  of  academical  good  order,  is  entrusted 
to  the  university  itself,  the  duties  of  the  Pro- 
rector  and  Senate  are  at  once  laborious  and  in- 
vidious. The  discipline  of  the  university  de- 
pends entirely  on  the  rigour  with  which  these  gen- 
tlemen discharge  their  duty ;  and  this  mode  of 
administration  is  favourable  neither  to  uniformi- 
ty nor  firmness.  The  Prorector  is  changed 
every  half  year ;  all  the  good  which  a  man  of 
vigilance  and  determination  has  effected  in  six 
months  may  be  undone,  as  it  often  has  been  un- 
done, during  the  following  six,  by  the  careless- 
ness, the  laxity,  or  the  connivance  of  his  suc- 
cessor. He  has,  to  be  sure,  a  committee  of  the 
Senate,  to  assist  him  in  the  ordinary  business  ; 
but  this  does  not  in  any  way  mend  the  matter, 
though  it  diminishes  his  responsibility  ;  for  it 
has  long  been  the  prevailing  spirit  of  every  Ger- 
man faculty  to  wink,  as  much  as  possible,  at  the 
irregularities  of  their  pupils,  and  relax  the  reins 
of  discipline  ;  because,  to  hold  them  with  a  firm 
hand  exposes  them  to  odium.  If  it  was  natural 


ACADEMICAL  JURISDICTION.  197 

for  the  students  to  prefer  a  kindly,  paternal,  in- 
dulgent jurisdiction  of  this  kind,  on  whose  fears 
and  comforts  they  could  operate  in  so  many 
ways,  to  the  legal  sternness  and  strictness  of  a 
police  magistrate,  it  was  equally  natural,  that 
the  Professor  should  choose  to  be  a  favourite 
among  the  young  men  on  whom,  in  some  mea- 
sure, his  fame,  his  fees,  and  even  the  quiet  of  his 
life  depended,  rather  than  to  be  detested  by 
them  as  a  tyrannical  master,  or  a  too  rigorous 
judge.  The  Burschen  speedily  saw  their  ad- 
vantage. Feeling  that  weak  hands  guided  the 
chariot  of  the  sun,  they  got  the  bit  between  their 
teeth,  and  started  off  in  their  unrestrained  course, 
setting  all  the  universities  on  fire.  For  the  ri- 
gorous among  their  teachers  they  had  hootings 
and  pereats  ;  for  the  indulgent  they  had  vivats 
and  serenades.  It  was  nothing  uncommon  to  see 
a  venerable  professor  descend  from  among  his 
folios  to  the  filial  youths  who  fiddled  beneath 
his  window  at  fall  of  night,  and,  with  cap  in 
hand,  while  tears  of  tenderness  diluted  the 
rheum  of  his  aged  eyes,  humbly  thank  the  co- 
vered crowd  for  the  inestimable  honour.  It  is, 
no  doubt,  very  amiable  in  these  gentlemen  to 


198  JENA. 

say  that  the  spirit  of  a  young  man  must  not  be 
broken,  or  his  honour  severely  wounded ;  that 
he  is  not  to  be  punished  as  a  criminal,  but  gently 
reclaimed,  like  a  child  who  has  gone  astray,  by 
the  paternal  hand  of  his  instructors ;  but  the  ef- 
ficiency of  paternal  authority  has  its  bounds,  even 
where  the  natural  relation  gives  it  more  weight 
than  the  metaphorical  paternity  of  the  univer- 
sity fathers ;  and  the  Burschen  have  long  since 
been  far  beyond  these  bounds.  When  the  ques- 
tion is,  whether  the  professors  shall  throw  off 
the  father,  and  assume  the  judge,  or  see  the  dis- 
cipline of  the  university,  and  the  manners  of  its 
students,  wrecked  before  their  eyes,  these  ami- 
able common  places  are  the  root  of  all  evil. 
The  question  had  come  to  this  a  century  ago, 
and  the  matter  has  every  year  been  growing 
worse.  Gottingen  had  not  existed  many  years 
before  discipline  was  so  miserably  neglected,  in 
consequence  of  this  system  of  truckling,  that 
Miinchausen  appointed  a  Syndicus,  or  superior 
magistrate,  who  had  no  connection  with  the  uni- 
versity, to  superintend  the  execution  of  the  laws. 
It  has  ended  at  length,  as  the  abuse  of  a  privi- 
lege always  does  end,  in  the  curtailment  of  this 


ACADEMICAL  JURISDICTION.  199 

exclusive  jurisdiction  of  which  the  professors 
were  so  proud  and  so  chary.  As  the  ordinary  ir- 
regularities of  the  students  have  been  mixed  up, 
of  late  years,  with  political  feelings,  to  which 
even  some  of  the  teachers  incautiously  lent  their 
countenance,  the  governments  have  in  general 
found  it  prudent  to  conjoin  civil  assessors  with 
the  academical  authorities,  and  to  narrow,  on 
the  whole,  the  limits  of  their  exclusive  jurisdic- 
tion. 

I  am  not  even  sure  that  the  easy  footing  on 
which  the  Professors  of  Jena  seem  to  live  with 
their  students  is  altogether  desirable ;  for,  in 
such  matters,  mistaken  affability  can  do  more 
mischief  than  even  superciliousness.  There  is 
no  harm  in  waltzing  in  Germany,  and  no  harm 
any  where  in  playing  whist  or  the  piano ;  but  a 
German  sage,  who  has  to  manage  German 
Burschen,  should  be  the  last  man  to  forget  the 
proverb  which  makes  familiarity  and  contempt 
mother  arid  daughter.  The  professors  have 
lately  formed  a  Landsmannschaft,  as  it  were,  of 
their  own,  to  Renown,  by  giving  themselves 
and  the  students  an  entertainment  every  Sunday 
evening  in  the  Rose,  the  same  favoured  inn  to 
which  they  have  restricted  the  Burschen  balls. 


200  JENA. 

The  professors  alone  are  members  of  the  asso- 
ciation ;  but  each  has  the  privilege  of  inviting 
as  many  students,  or  strangers,  as  he  thinks 
proper.  The  very  intention  of  the  thing  was, 
if  not  to  gratify  the  young  men  by  a  mark  of 
attention  for  good  behaviour,  and  mortify  the 
disorderly  by  exclusion,  at  least  to  give  them 
some  chance  of  civilization,  by  submitting  them 
to  the  polish  of  well  behaved  company,  and  re- 
spectable ladies.  On  alternate  evenings  there  is 
a  regular  concert,  for  few  Burschen  do  not  play 
some  instrument,  and  play  it  well.  On  the 
others,  there  are  tea-tables,  and  card-tables,  a 
little  music,  and  a  little  dancing.  The  ladies 
sing,  play  the  piano,  perhaps  waltz  for  an  hour, 
and,  by  nine  o'clock,  all  is  over,  in  a  decent 
Christian  way,  if  either  of  these  epithets  can  be 
applied  to  such  a  mode  of  spending  Sunday 
evening.  The  dethroned  Professor  of  Natural 
History  was  waltzing  most  vigorously,  while  the 
Professor  of  Greek  hopped  vivaciously  about  as 
arbiter  elegantiarum.  Who,  after  this,  will  talk 
of  Heavysterns  and  Heavysides  as  representa- 
tives of  German  erudition  ?  Who  will  style 
German  Professors  dull  bookworms,  when  they 
thus  flutter  like  butterflies  ?  It  is  perfectly 


BURSARIES.  201 

true,  that  a  select  number  of  the  young  men 
thus  amuse  themselves,  for  a  couple  of  hours, 
like  well  bred  persons,  under  the  eyes  of  their 
academical  superiors  ;  but  this  has  a  very  partial 
and  temporary  effect.  The  teacher  and  the 
taught,  those  who  should  command,  and  those 
who  should  obey,  are  brought  together  in  a 
fashion  by  no  means  favourable  to  rigid  dis- 
cipline. I  cannot  believe  that  the  students, 
accustomed  to  see  their  professors  thus  occu- 
pied, and  to  be  thus  occupied  along  with  them, 
on  Sunday  evening,  can  regard  them  as  very 
authoritative  personages  on  Monday  morning. 
Besides,  it  can  only  extend  to  a  very  limited 
number ;  while  thirty  or  forty  of  the  most  re- 
spectable youngsters  are  growing  smooth  under 
the  hands  of  academical  ladies,  the  three  or  four 
hundred,  who  stand  most  in  need  of  reformation, 
are  hatching  academical  rebellions  over  jugs  of 
beer. 

Jena  used  to  muster  about  eight  hundred  stu- 
dents, but  within  the  last  five  years,  the  number 
has  diminished  to  nearly  one-half,  and,  as  in 
most  other  German  universities,  the  large  pro- 
portion who  are  supported  entirely  or  partly  on 
i  2 


202 


JENA. 


charity  excites  surprise.  It  has  been  the  bane 
of  these  seminaries  that  the  liberality  of  the  pub- 
lic, and  the  mistaken  piety  of  individuals,  con- 
verted them,  in  some  measure,  into  charity 
schools.  Bursaries  and  exhibitions,  when  kept 
within  proper  bounds,  may  do  much  good  ;  but, 
in  this  country  we  can  have  no  idea  of  the  ex- 
travagant length  to  which  they  have  been  car- 
ried in  the  German  universities,  the  Protestant 
as  well  as  the  Catholic,  and,  above  all,  in  the  de- 
partment of  Theology.  At  the  Reformation,  there 
was  a  large  demand  for  preachers  in  the  protest- 
ant  market,  and  it  was  thought,  that  part  of  the 
ecclesiastical  revenues,  thrown  open  to  the  state- 
by  the  downfall  of  popery,  could  not  be  better 
employed  than  in  encouraging  the  manufac- 
ture ;  the  production  of  clergymen  was  cherish- 
ed by  a  bounty.  lu  the  Catholic  countries, 
again,  the  public  seminaries  had  always  a  great 
deal  of  the  hospitium  in  them  :  theology  is  fre- 
quently taught  in  the  cloister,  and,  to  assist  the 
rising  priesthood  is  one  great  end  of  monastic 
wealth.  A  hierarchy,  whose  constitution  pro- 
vides for  the  finished  priest  so  many  temples  of 
indolence,  where  he  may  doze  away  his  life, 


BURSARIES.  203 

would  act  inconsistently,  if  it  withheld  its  liberal 
hand  in  preparing  him  for  his  high  destiny.  Up- 
wards of  thirty  thousand  pounds  have  been  ex- 
pended in  one  year,  in  the  hereditary  dominions 
of  Austria,  in  maintaining  students  gratis.  In 
one  seminary  at  Presburgh,  there  used  to  be  five 
hundred  young  men  studying  theology,  with  an 
allowance  of  about  twenty  pounds  yearly  each. 
The  bursaries  at  Altorf,  before  it  was  abolished 
in  1807,  are  said  to  have  equalled  all  the  other 
expences  of  the  university ;  and,  perhaps,  the 
number  and  amount  of  these  foundations,  at 
Tubingen,  in  Wirtemberg,  where  the  theologi- 
cal seminary  alone  has  been  calculated  to  cost 
two  thousand  a-year,  may  have  had  a  powerful 
influence  in  establishing  its  character  as  a  nur- 
sery for  young  divines.  In  cheaper  times,  there 
were  bursaries  on  which  a  man,  with  economy, 
could  contrive  to  support  himself  and  a  family. 
The  unavoidable  consequence  of  this  mistaken 
liberality  was,  to  allure  into  the  learned  profes- 
sions, and  particularly  into  the  church,  a  great 
number  of  men  who  otherwise  would  never  have 
thought  of  quitting  a  more  appropriate  occupa- 
tion. The  market  was  speedily  glutted,  and  so 


204  JENA. 

it  will  continue,  so  long  as  those  premiums  exist, 
which  draw  crowds  into  professions,  where  nei- 
ther the  sins,  nor  the  diseases,  nor  the  law-suits  of 
the  people,  wicked,  sickly,  and  quarrelsome  as 
the  world  is,  can  possibly  give  them  all  bread. 

Jena  is  comparatively  free  from  this  form  of 
liberality;  the  princes  who  founded  it  have 
always  been  too  poor  to  be  nursing  fathers  to 
the  church,  in  this  sense  of  the  words.  The 
only  eleemosynary  institution  is  the  Freytisch,  or 
Free-Table,  which  consists  in  this,  that  a  certain 
number  of  students  are  provided  by  the  univer- 
sity with  dinner  and  supper  at  a  public  table  ; 
they  must  supply  all  their  other  wants  as  thev 
best  can.  Even  the  table  is  not  always  entirely 
gratuitous.  The  senate  are  in  the  habit  of  ex- 
acting, from  such  as  can  afford  it,  a  groshen  a- 
day,  not  quite  a  shilling  weekly ;  and  nearly  one- 
half  of  the  whole  number  has  been  known  to  pay 
it.  The  whole  number  of  places  is  a  hundred 
and  fifty  ;  thus  charitable  provision  is  made  for 
more  than  one-fourth  of  all  the  students  attend- 
ing the  university  !  It  has  now  assumed  a  dif- 
ferent form  ;  the  young  men  themselves  natural- 
ly shrunk  from  the  inferiority  with  which  it  pub- 


BURSARIES.  205 

licly  marked  them  in  the  eyes  of  their  compa- 
nions, and,  still  more,  from  the  restraints  which 
daily  dinners,  and  nightly  suppers,  under  aca- 
demical inspection,  laid  upon  their  academical 
liberty.  Their  fellow  students  would  not  even 
condescend  to  fight  with  them ;  and  no  Hindoo 
can  feel  greater  horror  at  loss  of  Caste,  than  a 
Bursche  at  being  thought  unworthy  to  scanda- 
lize. This  forbearance  of  their  superiors  might 
sometimes  proceed  from  a  more  laudable  motive. 
They  knew,  that  if  one  of  these  poor  fellows 
were  detected  in  a  scandal,  he  might  possibly 
forfeit  his  place  at  the  free-table ;  perhaps,  there- 
fore, it  showed  more  delicacy  than  supercilious- 
ness, to  avoid  seeking  quarrels  with  them.  But 
to  the  Knights  of  the  Free-Table  this  was  the 
severest  of  all  mortifications  ;  they  would  not  be 
spared.  At  the  same  time,  they  were  perpetu- 
ally complaining  of  their  provender,  and  de- 
nouncing to  the  Prorector,  the  butcher,  the 
baker,  the  cook,  and  the  superintendent.  All 
these  circumstances  induced  the  senate,  four 
years  ago,  to  abolish  the  institution,  and  apply 
the  funds  to  the  use  of  the  same  students  in  a 
different  way.  To  each  is  allotted  a  proportion- 


206  JENA. 

al  share  of  the  whole  sum,  and  he  is  allowed  to 
eat  where  he  chooses.  He  does  not  receive  the 
money,  otherwise  it  would  instantly  dissolve  in 
beer ;  he  selects  his  table  in  one  of  the  numerous 
eating-houses,  and,  to  the  amount  of  the  sum  to 
which  he  is  entitled,  the  university  is  security  to 
the  landlord. 

The  sudden  diminution  of  the  number  of  stu- 
dents originated  in  the  murder  of  Kotzebue,  and 
the  wide  spread,  but  extravagant  belief,  that  the 
whole  body  of  the  youth  of  Jena  were  infected 
with  the  same  principles,  would  exhibit  them  in 
similar  frightful  deeds,  if  they  could  only  be 
worked  up  to  the  same  pitch  of  devotedness  with 
Kotzebue's  assassin,  and  that  even  some  of  her 
chairs  were  prostituted  to  teach  sedition,  and,  in- 
directly at  least,  to  palliate  assassination.  It  can- 
not be  denied  that  there  was  enough  in  Jena  to 
teach  a  man  very  troublesome,  because  very 
vague,  though  ardent  political  doctrines;  but 
there  was  nothing  at  all  to  teach  him  murder. 
Sand's  former  companions  and  instructors  uni- 
formly speak  of  him  as  a  reserved,  mystical  per- 
son, who  kept  aloof  even  from  the  noisy  pastimes 
of  his  brethren.  In  fact,  the  storm  had  long 


ITS  DECLINE.  207 

been  gathering  over  Jena;  Jena  had  arranged 
the  Wartburg  festival,  which  was  treated  as 
downright  rebellion ;  Jena  had  given  birth  to  the 
Burschenschaft,  an  institution  of  most  problema- 
tical tendency,  which  was  to  unite  all  the  stu- 
dents of  Germany  in  one  organized  confedera- 
tion, from  the  shores  of  the  East  Sea  to  the  foot 
of  the  Alps  ;  among  the  professors  of  Jena  had 
appeared  the  periodical  publications  which  spoil- 
ed the  sleep  of  all  the  diplomatists  of  Frankfort 
and  Vienna.  A  Russian  gentleman  published  a 
book  to  prove  the  necessity  of  subjecting  the 
universities  to  a  severer  code  of  laws,  and  point- 
ed out  Jena  as  the  focus  of  a  revolutionary  fire 
that  was  inflaming  the  whole  body  of  the  Ger- 
man youth.  Two  Burschen  immediately  came 
over  to  Weimar,  where  the  author  then  lived, 
to  challenge  the  intermeddling  Philistine,  but 
were  met  with  the  remarkable  answer,  that  he 
had  only  written  according  to  the  views  of  his 
master  the  Emperor,  and  could  be  no  more  re- 
sponsible than  a  soldier  who  acts  in  obedience  to 
a  higher  command.  The  murder  of  Kotzebue, 
a  man,  the  manner  of  whose  death  did  Germany 
more  mischief  than  all  the  servile  volumes  he 


208  JENA. 

could  have  written,  furnished,  unfortunately,  too 
good  a  pretext  for  crushing  the  obnoxious  uni- 
versity. Jena  was  proscribed  :  some  of  the  states 
expressly  prohibited  their  youth  to  study  there  : 
in  all,  it  was  allowed  to  be  known,  that  those 
who  did  would  be  looked  on  with  an  evil  eye. 

If  it  be  impossible  to  acquit  some  of  the  Pro- 
fessors of  having  been  misled,  by  their  zeal  for 
political  ameliorations,  incautiously  to  counte- 
nance the  extravagancies  of  their  pupils,  the 
imprudence  has  brought  a  severe  punishment 
on  all ;  for  all  have  suffered  most  sensibly  from 
the  diminution  in  the  number  of  students. 
They  have  been  Attacked,  too,  with  suspensions, 
depositions,  and  threats.  Fries,  the  Professor 
of  Metaphysics,  attended  the  festival  on  the 
Wartburg,  where  the  students  burned  certain 
slavish  books ;  he  was  suspended  from  his  office, 
and  has  not  yet  been  restored.  The  most  un- 
fortunate, as  the  most  imprudent  of  all,  was  Dr 
Oken,  the  Professor  of  Natural  History.  The 
scientific  world  allows  him  to  be  a  man  of  most 
extensive  and  accurate  learning  in  all  the  de- 
partments of  his  science.  His  character  is  en- 
tirely made  up  of  placidity  and  kindliness  ;  in 


DR  OKEN.  209 

conversation  he  seems  studiously  to  avoid  touch- 
ing on  political  topics ;  he  is  apparently,  and 
the  voice  of  his  colleagues  declares  him  to  be  in 
reality,  among  the  most  tranquil,  mild,  easy 
minded  men  alive.  He,  too,  was  at  the  Wart- 
burg,  and,  in  the  contest  of  opinion  which  arose 
in  Germany  about  the  establishment  of  internal 
liberty,  Dr  Oken,  like  most  of  his  colleagues, 
took  the  liberal  side.  He  was  editor  of  the  Isis, 
a  periodical  publication  devoted  entirely  to  na- 
tural science ;  but  he  now  began  to  consecrate 
its  pages  to  political  discussion.  He  wrote  gall- 
ing things,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  said 
them  was  perhaps  more  provoking  than  what 
was  said.  From  his  style  of  learning,  he  was 
probably  the  very  last  man  in  the  university 
that  should  have  meddled  with  politics ;  and, 
unfortunately,  he  meddled  with  them  in  a  more 
irritating  way  than  any  other  person.  Russia, 
Austria,  and,  it  is  said,  Prussia,  insisted  he 
should  be  dismissed  as  the  most  dangerous  of 
Jacobins,  who  was  organizing  a  revolution  in  the 
bosom  of  the  university.  The  Grand  Duke, 
who  loves  not  harshness,  long  resisted  taking  so 
decisive  a  step  against  a  man  so  universally  be- 


210  JENA. 

loved  for  his  personal,  and  respected  for  his  sci- 
entific character  ;  but  all  he  could  gain  was,  that 
Dr  Oken  should  have  the  choice  of  giving  up 
his  journal,  or  resigning  his  chair.  The  Pro- 
fessor refused  to  do  either,  saying  very  justly, 
that  he  knew  no  law  which  rendered  them  in- 
compatible. His  doom  was  fixed.  In  June  1819 
he  was  dismissed  from  his  office,  without  any 
farther  inquiry,  or  any  sentence  of  a  court  of 
justice.  The  standing  commission  of  the  Wei- 
mar parliament  gave  its  approbation  to  the  mea- 
sure at  the  time,  and  it  has  been  already  men- 
tioned, that,  when  the  question  was  afterwards 
brought  before  the  whole  chamber,  that  body, 
to  the  astonishment  of  all  Germany,  voted  the 
dismissal  to  be  legal. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  say,  that  the  fall  of  the 
Professor  increased  the  idolatry  of  the  Burschen 
towards  him.  On  his  deposition,  they  presented 
to  him  a  silver  cup,  which  he  displays  on  his 
frugal  board  with  an  honest  pride,  bearing  the 
inscription,  Wermuth  war  Dir  gebothcn ;  tr'inke 
Wein.  *  A  person  in  Weimar,  who  had  culti- 

*  Wormwood  was  offered  thee ;  drink  wine. 


PROFESSOR  LUDEN. 

vated  natural  history,  left  behind  him,  at  his 
death,  a  valuable  collection  of  foreign  and  native 
insects,  which  his  widow  wished  to  sell.  No 
sooner  did  the  students  learn  that  Oken  was  in 
treaty  for  it,  than  they  purchased  it  at  their  own 
expence,  and  presented  it  to  him  in  the  name  of 
the  Burschen.  The  patience  and  equanimity 
with  which  he  has  borne  his  misfortune  have 
conciliated  every  body.  The  Isis,  reclaimed 
from  her  political  wanderings,  has  returned  to 
chemistry  and  natural  history,  with  equal  bene- 
fit to  her  master,  and  to  the  sciences ;  and  all 
join  in  the  hope,  that  Dr  Oken  will  soon  be  re- 
stored to  the  chair  which  he  filled  so  usefully, 

Luden,  Professor  of  History,  would  probably 
have  shared  the  same  fate,  had  he  not  read  the 
signs  of  the  times  more  accurately,  and  retired 
seasonably  from  the  contest.  In  his  own  depart- 
ment, he  has  justly  the  reputation  of  being  one 
of  the  best  heads  in  Germany.  He  possesses  great 
learning  ;  he  is  acute,  nervous,  and  eloquent,  oc- 
casionally intolerably  caustic,  and  sometimes  over- 
hasty  and  fiery  in  his  opinions,  or  rather  in  de- 
fending them.  The  party  that  numbers  Luden 
among  its  champions  is  sure  to  be  deficient  nei- 


212  JENA. 

ther  in  learning,  nor  logic,  nor  wit.  His  class 
has  always  been  the  most  numerously  attended 
in  the  university,  for  the  marrow  of  his  prelec- 
tions consists,  not  in  narrations  of  historical  facts 
which  any  body  can  read  in  a  book,  but  in  elu- 
cidations and  disquisitions  springing  out  of  these 
facts,  which,  if  not  always  correct,  are  always  cle- 
ver. He  is  an  idolater  of  Sir  William  Temple, 
of  whom  he  has  written  a  life.  "  If  I  know  any 
"  thing,11  said  he,  one  day  in  his  lecture,  "  of  the 
"  spirit  of  history,  or  if  I  have  learned  to  judge  of 
"  political  institutions  and  political  conduct,  it  is 
"  to  Sir  William  Temple  that  I  owe  it  all.11  In 
the  beginning  of  1814,  when  Germany  was  about 
to  put  forth  all  her  power  to  banish  the  long  en- 
dured domination  of  France,  Luden  began  the 
publication  of  his  Nemesis.  As  its  name  im- 
ports, the  great  object  of  the  journal  was  to 
rouse  and  keep  alive  the  public  feeling,  and  it  is 
said  to  have  been  wonderfully  successful.  After 
the  general  peace  arose  internal  political  irrita- 
tion. The  Nemesis,  having  nothing  more  to  do 
with  France,  now  became  the  bulwark  of  the 
liberals  of  Germany.  The  opposite  party  dread- 
ed it  more  than  any  other,  both  from  the  talent 


PROFESSOR  LUDEN.  213 

which  it  displayed,  and  the  weight  of  the  editor's 
character,  who  was  well  known  to  be  no  vision- 
ary, and  to  be  perfectly  master  of  the  subjects 
that  were  treated  in  his  journal.  Neither  did  it 
give  them  the  same  convenient  handle  as  the 
imprudent  Isis ;  for  it  indulged  in  nothing  per- 
sonal, or  irritating,  or  disrespectful.  It  was  no 
book  for  the  many ;  it  dealt  only  in  sober  poli- 
tical disquisitions,  and  erudite  historical  illustra- 
tions, tainted  with  a  good  deal  of  that  metaphy- 
sic  which  belongs  to  all  German  politicians. 
Perhaps  these  very  qualities  rendered  a  victory 
over  the  Nemesis  indispensable,  and  Luden's 
unfortunate  collision  with  Kotzebue  furnished 
too  good  an  opportunity  for  at  least  harassing 
the  editor. 

An  article  in  the  Nemesis,  written  by  Luden 
himself,  in  which  he  took  a  view  of  the  condi- 
tion and  policy  of  the  leading  European  powers, 
contained  some  remarks  on  the  internal  admini- 
stration and  foreign  policy  of  Russia, — not,  in- 
deed, in  the  style  of  eulogy,  but  just  as  little  in 
that  of  insult  or  disrespect.  Kotzebue  was  finish- 
ing his  second  report  to  the  Emperor  of  Russia 
on  the  occurrences  of  German  literature,  when 


214  %  JENA. 

this  tract  came  under  his  eye.  Already  in  open 
war  with  all  universities  and  all  professors,  he 
inserted  a  very  partial  and  unfavourable  notice 
of  it  in  his  bulletin,  suppressing  every  thing  re- 
spectful or  laudatory  that  was  said  of  Russia, 
setting  every  thing  censorious  in  the  most  odious 
light,  and  accompanying  the  whole  with  virulent 
remarks,  equally  injurious  to  the  public  arid 
private  character  of  the  author.  Kotzebue's  re- 
ports were  written  in  French,  and  were  tran- 
scribed by  a  person  in  Weimar,  before  being 
sent  to  St  Petersburgh.  The  copyist  was  no 
adept  in  French ;  and  being  doubtful  of  some 

passages,  he  requested  his  neighbour,  Dr  L , 

to  read  them  for  him.  It  so  happened  that  these 
sentences  were  among  the  most  virulent  against 
Luden,  of  whom  Dr  L was  an  intimate  ac- 
quaintance. The  latter,  struck  with  their  cha- 
racter, prevailed  on  the  copyist  to  leave  the  ma- 
nuscript with  him  for  a  few  hours,  transcribed 
all  that  related  to  his  friend,  and  sent  it  off  to 
Jena.  A  new  number  of  the  Nemesis  was  in  the 
press ;  Luden  sent  the  extracts  from  Kotzebue's 
report  to  be  printed  in  it,  accompanied  with  a 
very  ample  and  bitter  commentary.  This  jour- 


PROFESSOR  LUDEN.  215 

nal  was  printed  in  Weimar  ;  Kotzebue  learned, 
it  was  never  discovered  how,  that  a  portion  of 
his  bulletin,  and  a  portion  which  he  was  not  at 
all  desirous  that  Germany  should  know,  was  to 
appear  in  the  next  number ;  and,  on  his  applica- 
tion, the  Russian  Resident  demanded  that  this 
alleged  violation  of  private  property  should  be 
prevented.  Count  Edling,  who  was  at  that  time 
foreign  minister,  immediately  ordered  Bertuch 
not  to  proceed  with  the  printing  of  that  number 
of  the  Nemesis.  But  it  so  happened,  that  great 
part  of  the  impression  was  already  thrown  off; 
and,  as  there  was  no  order  not  to  publish,  the 
printed  copies  were  sent  to  Jena  to  be  distribut- 
ed. Kotzebue  stormed  ;  all  the  numbers  of  the 
Nemesis,  containing  the  obnoxious  article,  were 
seized  and  condemned.  The  seizure  was  in 
vain,  for  Oken  immediately  republished  it  in 
the  Isis.  The  Isis  was  seized  and  condemned, 
and  Wieland  immediately  reprinted  it  in  his 
"  Friend  of  the  People.11  *  This  journal,  too, 

*  This  was  the  son  of  the  great  Wieland.  He  had 
some  talent,  but  was  unsteady.  His  "  Friend  of  the 
People"  was  suppressed ;  then  he  tried  to  re-establish  it 


216  JENA. 

was  seized  and  condemned  ;  but  the  matter  was 
by  this  time  over  all  Germany.  Kotzebue,  de- 
tected in  his  malevolence,  thwarted  in  all  his  at- 
tempts at  suppression,  and  the  object  of  general 
dislike,  was  exasperated  to  the  uttermost.  He 
railed  at  the  government  of  Weimar  in  good 
set  terms,  threatened  the  whole  grand  duchy 
with  the  vengeance  of  the  Russian  Autocrat, 
and  retired,  fuming,  to  Manheim.  Criminal 
proceedings  were  instituted  against  Luden  ;  the 
court  at  Weimar  sent  the  case  for  judgment  to 
the  University  of  Leipzig,  which  condemned  the 
professor  to  pay  a  fine,  or  go  to  prison  for  three 
months ;  but,  on  an  appeal  to  the  supreme  court 
at  Jena,  the  sentence  was  reversed.  It  was  now 
his  turn  to  attack.  He  prosecuted  Kotzebue 
for  defamation ;  and  the  court  at  Weimar,  which 
seems  to  have  been  determined  to  keep  clear  of 
the  matter  altogether,  sent  the  case  to  the  juri- 

under  the  title  of  "  The  Friend  of  Princes/' — but  various 
princes  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  such  friends ;  then 
it  assumed  the  name  of"  The  Patriot;"  but  no  printed 
Proteus  can  escape  a  vigilant  police,  and  at  last  Wieland 
died,  just  at  the  proper  time,  when  he  had  nothing  to 
do. 


PROFESSOR  LUDEN.  217 

dical  faculty  of  Wiirzburg.  That  university 
ordained  Kotzebue  to  recant  what  he  had  writ- 
ten against  Luden,  as  being  false  and  inju- 
rious, and  to  pay  the  costs  of  suit.  The 
progress,  and,  still  more,  the  judicial  termina- 
tion of  this  affair  could  not  be  agreeable  to  the 
Court  of  St  Petersburgh,  whose  influence,  from 
family  connections,  must  always  be  powerful  at 
Weimar.  Harassed  by  the  troublesome  conse- 
quences of  the  quarrel,  foreseeing  the  progress 
of  the  policy,  that,  in  a  few  months,  introduced 
a  censorship,  under  which  he  would  have  dis- 
dained to  proceed,  and  apprehending,  perhaps, 
a  similar  fate  to  that  which  so  soon  overtook  Dr 
Oken,  Professor  Luden  gave  up  together  the 
struggle  and  the  Nemesis. 


VOL.  I. 


218  WEISSENFELS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

WEISSENFELS— LEIPZIG DRESDEN. 

Gott  segne  Sachsenland, 

Wo  fest  die  Treue  stand 

In  Sturm  und  Nacht. 

Saxon  National  Hymn. 

FROM  Weimar,  the  territory  of  the  grand 
duchy  still  stretches  a  dozen  miles  to  the  north- 
ward, along  the  great  commercial  road  between 
Frankfort  and  Leipzig,  till  it  meets  the  south- 
ern frontier  of  Prussia,  on  the  summit  of  the 
Eckartsberg,  a  woody  ridge  into  which  the 
country  gradually  rises,  and  from  time  imme- 
morial a  chace  of  the  House  of  Weimar.  There 
is  less  culture,  and  less  population,  than  in  the 
southern  districts,  for  the  country  is  cold  and 
hilly.  The  villages  are  generally  in  the  hol- 
lows, on  the  bank  of  some  small  stream,  rural 


PEASANTRY.  219 

enough  in  their  accompaniments,  but  frequently 
betraying  in  themselves  utter  penury.  One 
wonders  where  the  people  come  from  who  pay 
the  taxes  in  this  country.  Districts  have  been 
known  to  pay  in  agricultural  produce,  from  in- 
ability to  raise  money.  It  can  only  be  an  incor- 
rigible attachment  to  old  habits,  that  induces 
the  peasantry  still  to  use  so  much  wood  in 
building  their  cottages,  where  stone  is  abundant, 
fuel  scarce  and  expensive,  and  fires  frequent  and 
destructive.  A  watchman,  appointed  for  the 
special  purpose,  (Der  Feuerwachter )  looks  out 
all  night  from  the  tower  of  the  old  castle  in 
Weimar,  to  give  the  alarm  if  fire  appear  within 
his  horizon.  I  have  seen  a  village  of  forty- 
eight  houses  reduced  to  a  heap  of  ashes  in  a 
couple  of  hours,  except  the  church,  which  was 
of  stone.  From  the  materials  used  in  building 
and  roofing,  and  the  connection  of  the  houses 
with  each  other,  every  peasant  is  exposed,  not 
only  to  his  own  mischances,  but  to  those,  like- 
wise, of  all  his  neighbours  ;  for,  if  one  house  in 
the  village  take  fire,  the  probability  always  is, 
that  very  few  will  escape.  Yet  the  peasant  will 
rather  run  the  risk  of  having  his  house  burned 


220  WEISSENFELS. 

about  his  ears  twice  a-year,  than  be  at  the 
expence  of  insuring  it.  In  the  last  session  of 
the  Landtag,  a  plan  was  introduced  for  esta- 
blishing an  insurance  company  by  public  autho- 
rity, the  insurance  in  which  should  be  compul- 
sory. It  no  doubt  sounds  strange  to  talk  of 
compelling  people  to  do  themselves  a  good  turn ; 
but,  without  some  similar  intervention  of  public 
authority,  the  want  of  capital  and  enterprise  is  a 
sufficient  bar  to  the  establishment  of  such  insti- 
tutions. 

At  Weissenfels,  which  has  its  name  (the  White 
Rock)  from  the  range  of  precipices  whose  foot 
is  washed  by  the  Saal,  the  stranger  regards 
with  much  indifference,  in  the  vaults  of  the  old 
castle,  the  cumbersome  coffins  of  uninteresting 
princes,  and  visits  with  reverence  the  apartment 
in  which  the  bleeding  body  of  Gustavus  Adol- 
phus  was  deposited  after  the  battle  of  Liitzen. 
An  inscription,  commemorating  the  event,  re- 
cords, among  other  things,  that  the  heart  of  the 
hero  weighed  ten  pounds  some  ounces.  Part 
of  the  wall  of  the  room  had  been  stained  with 
his  blood,  and  it  was  long  anxiously  preserved, 
till  the  plaster  was  cut  out,  and  carried  off  by 


DR  MULLNEB.  221 

Swedish  soldiers.  The  spot  itself  is  still  religi- 
ously protected  against  all  whitewashings,  and, 
.covered  by  a  sliding  pannel,  retains  its  old  dirty 
hue. 

Dr  Milliner,  the  great  living  dramatist  of 
Germany,  honours  Weissenfels  with  his  resi- 
dence. He  is  a  doctor  of  laws,  and  an  advocate, 
a  profession  which  supplies  tragedy  writers  in 
more  countries  than  one ;  but  he  gets  into  so 
many  disputes  with  neighbours  and  booksellers, 
that  he  is  jocularly  said  to  be  his  own  best 
client.  He  certainly  has  more  of  the  spirit  of 
poetry  in  him  than  any  of  his  living  rivals,  ex- 
cept Gothe  ;  but  many  of  his  finest  passages  are 
lyric,  rather  than  dramatic.  His  appearance 
betokens  nothing  of  the  soul  which  breathes  in 
his  tragedies.  He  was  still  in  bed  at  mid-day, 
for  he  never  begins  his  poetical  labours  till  after 
midnight.  He  spends  the  hours  of  darkness 
with  the  ladies  of  Parnassus,  disturbs  the  whole 
neighbourhood  by  the  vehemence  with  which  he 
declaims  his  newly  composed  verses,  and  late  in 
the  morning  retires  to  bed.  Dissipation  is  not 
the  only  thing  that  can  turn  day  into  night. 
He  speaks  willingly  of  his  own  works,  ami 


222  WEISSEKFELS. 

seems  to  have  a  very  proper  sense  of  their 
merits.  His  general  humour  is  extremely  dry 
and  sarcastic.  Gothe  had  sent  him  over  from 
Weimar  a  number  of  Blackwood's  Magazine, 
containing  a  critique  on  the  Schidd,  with  speci- 
mens of  a  translation.  He  took  Blackwood  to 
be  the  name  of  the  author  of  the  Magazine,  and 
a  distinguished  literary  character ;  nor  did  he 
seem  to  give  me  his  full  belief,  when  I  assured 
him,  that  that  gentleman  was  just  a  bookseller 
and  publisher  like  his  friend  Brockhaus  in 
Leipzig.  He  was  overjoyed  to  learn  that  we 
have  more  than  one  translation  of  Leonora,  for 
"  the  yelpers,"  he  said,  were  beginning  to  al- 
lege, that  Burger  had  stolen  it  from  an  old  Scot- 
tish ballad.  We  cannot  claim  that  honour,  but 
some  of  Dr  Milliner's  brethren  plunder  us  with- 
out mercy  or  acknowledgment.  A  very  merito- 
rious piece  of  poetry  was  once  pointed  out  to 
me  in  the  works  of  Haug,  the  epigrammatist,  as 
a  proof  that  the  simple  ballad  had  not  died  out 
with  Schiller.  It  was  neither  less  nor  more 
than  a  translation  of  our  own  delicious  "  Bar- 
bara Allan,"  whom  Haug  had  converted,  so  far 
as  I  recollect,  into  "  Julia  Klangen." 


HAUG. 

Haug  has  written  too  many  epigrams  to  Have 
written  many  good  ones ;  they  want  point  and 
delicacy.  He  has  no  fewer  than  an  hundred  on 
the  Bardolphian  nose  of  an  innkeeper  who  had 
offended  him.  One  of  his  best  is  in  the  form  of 
an  epitaph  on  a  lady  of  rank  and  well  known 
gallantry,  and  the  idea  is  new  : 

As  Titus  thought,  so  thought  the  fair  deceased, 
And  daily  made  one  happy  man,  at  least.  * 

It  was  of  the  same  lady,  who  spoke  much  too 
boldly  of  her  contempt  for  the  calumnies  of  the 
world,  that  he  afterwards  sung,— 

"  I  wrap  me  in  my  virtue's  spotless  vest ;" 
That's  what  the  world  calls,  going  lightly  dressed. 

The  difference  between  courtship  and  marriage 
has  been  the  theme  of  wits,  since  the  first  bride 
was  won,  and  the  first  epigram  turned.  Haug 
does  not  belie  his  trade : 

She.  You  men  are  angels  while  you  woo  the  maid, 
But  devils  when  the  marriage- vow  is  said. 

*  Hier  schlummert  die  wie  Titus  dachte, 
Un.d  taglich  einen  glueklich  machte. 


LUTZEN. 

He.   The  change,  good  wife,  is  easily  forgiven  ; 
We  find  ourselves  in  hell,  instead  of  heaven. 

A  continued  plain  extends  from  Weissenfels  to 
Leipzig.  At  Liitzeri,  the  road  runs  through  the 
field  on  which  Gustavus  and  Wallenstein,  each  of 
them  as  yet  unconquered,  brought  their  skill  and 
prowess  to  the  trial  against  each  other  for  the  first, 
the  last,  the  only  time.  Close  by  the  road  is  the 
spot  where  Gustavus  fell  under  repeated  wounds, 
buried  beneath  a  heap  of  dead  piled  above  his 
corpse  in  the  dreadful  conflict  that  took  place 
for  his  dead  body.  A  number  of  unhewn  stones, 
set  horizontally  in  the  earth,  in  the  form  of  a 
cross,  mark  the  spot.  On  one  of  them  is  rudely 
carved  in  German,  "  Gustavus  Adolphus,  King 
"  of  Sweden,  fell  here  for  liberty  of  conscience.11 
A  shapeless  mass  that  rises  from  the  centre  of 
the  cross,  and,  since  that  day,  has  been  called 
"  The  Stone  of  the  Swede,11  bears  merely  the  ini- 
tials of  the  monarch's  name.  Though  in  a  field, 
and  close  upon  the  road,  neither  plough  nor 
wheel  has  been  allowed  to  profane  the  spot. 
Some  pious  hand  has  planted  round  it  a  few 
poplars,  and  disposed  within  the  circle  some  rude 
benches  of  turf,  where  the  wanderer  may  linger 


LEIPZIG.  225 

and  muse  on  the  deeds  and  the  fate  of  a  heroic 
and  chivalrous  monarch.  This  rude  memorial, 
standing  on  his  "  deathbed  of  fame,"  produces 
a  deeper  feeling  of  reality  and  veneration  than 
many  mountains  of  marble — than  "  sculptured 
urn  and  monumental  bust,"  so  powerful  are  the' 
associations  which  locality  can  call  up. 

Immediately  beyond  Liitzen,  Royal  Saxony 
begins  to  "  rear  her  diminished  head," — a  por- 
tion of  Germany  which,  in  the  arts  and  elegancies 
of  life,  as  well  as  in  industry,  acknowledges  ho 
superior.     Leipzig  gives  at  once  full  proof  of 
the  latter.     The  banker,  the  merchant,  and  the 
bookseller,  would  assuredly  find  in  it  a  great 
deal  that  is  worthy  his  notice ;  but  to  the  travel- 
ler who  has  none  of  those  sources  of  interest,  it 
presents  little  that  is  new,  after  Frankfort.     To 
any  other  foreigner,  a  town  like  the  one  or  the 
other  is  infinitely  more  amusing  than  to  a  Bri- 
ton ;   for  to  the  former  it  is  novel  and  unique, 
and  hence   the  wonderment   with  which  they 
speak,  and  the  pride  with  which  they  boast  of  it. 
The  German,  the  Russian,  the  Pole,  the  Aus- 
trian, the  Italian,  the  Swiss,  and,  in  a  hundred 
instances,  the  Frenchman,  has  seen  nothing  like 
K  2 


226  LEIPZIG. 

such  a  scene  of  commercial  activity,  and  possibly 
will  see  nothing  like  it  again  :  such  regiments  of 
bales,  such  mountains  of  wool-packs,  such  fir- 
maments of  mirrors,  such  processions  of  porters 
and  carters,  are  to  him  a  new  world  ;  and  when 
the  novelty  has  worn  off,  he  forms  his  opinion  of 
the  place,  at  last,  according  as  he  has  been  seek- 
ing money  or  amusement.  My  banker  spoke  with 
ecstasy  of  the  delights  of  a  Leipzig  smoking  club, 
and  a  game  at  nine  pins ;  while  Mr ,  a  gen- 
tleman of  elegant  acquirements,  formerly  mini- 
ster of  a  great  northern  power  in  the  Nether- 
lands, and  now  its  consul  at  Leipzig,  was  breath- 
ing out  his  soul  in  lamentations  over  the  harsh 
fate  which  had  doomed  him  to  this  "  mercantile 
Patmos."  But  to  a  Briton,  fresh  from  his  own 
country,  the  chandler's  shop  of  Europe,  and  the 
weaving  factory  of  the  universe,  a  town  like 
Leipzig  has  not  even  the  charm  of  novelty  in 
what  renders  it  striking  and  interesting  to  most 
other  people.  Only  individual  groupes  now  and 
then  attract  his  notice. 

Leipzig  does  not  equal  Frankfort  in  pomp  and 
bustle,  but  is  a  much  more  imposing  and  better 
built  town.  There  is  an  odd  mixture  of  the  old 


THE  CITJf.  227 

and  the  new,  which  is  far  from  producing  any 
unpleasant  effect.  Few  towns  exhibit  so  much 
of  the  carved  masonry  which  characterized  the 
old  German  style  of  building,  joined  with  so 
much  stateliness.  The  whole  wears  an  air  of 
comfort  and  substantiality,  which  accords  excel- 
lently well  with  the  occupations  and  character  of 
the  inhabitants.  Many  of  the  shops  would  make 
a  figure  even  in  London ;  but  then  they  are  full 
of  English  wares,  and  many  of  those  who  fre- 
quent them  are  full  of  English  mannerism.  The 
dandyism  of  Bond  Street  lounges  in  the  count- 
ing-houses and  behind  the  counters  of  Leipzig, 
in  more  than  its  native  exaggeration.  The  more 
sober  inhabitants,  well  acquainted  with  our  imi- 
tation-shawls, denominate  these  young  country- 
men of  their  own,  Imitation-Englishmen.  But 
Frankfort  has  immeasurably  the  advantage  in 
every  thing  outside  of  the  town.  The  level, 
well-cultivated,  monotonous  country  round  Leip- 
zig, poor  in  natural  beauty,  but  rich  in  histori- 
cal recollections,  abundantly  supplies  the  wants, 
without  offering  any  thing  to  gratify  the  taste, 
of  the  citizens.  The  field  where  Gustavus  took 
vengeance  OR  the  ferocious  Tilly,  for  the  sack- of 


228  LEIPZIG. 

Magdeburg — the  field  where  Gustavus  himself 
fell — the  field  where,  in  our  own  day,  united 
Germany  "  broke  her  chains  on  the  oppressor's 
head,"  all  surround  this  peaceful  mart  of  com- 
merce. Leipzig  has  seen  more  blood  shed  in  its 
neighbourhood,  and  more  merchandize  pouring 
wealth  through  its  streets,  than  any  other  city  of 
Germany. 

In  many  parts  it  still  bears  distinct  traces  of 
the  obstinate  conflict  that  took  place,  when  the 
Allies,  in  the  heat  of  victory,  forced  their  way 
into  the  town.  In  the  principal  streets  of  the 
suburb  where  the  infuriated  Prussians  advanced, 
the  houses  are  riddled  with  shot.  The  inhabit- 
ants, so  far  from  wishing  to  obliterate  these  me- 
morials of  the  VolJcerschlachty  or  Battle  of  the 
People,  as  they  term  it,  have  carefully  imbedded 
in  the  walls  cannon-balls  which  had  rebounded. 
One  which  struck  the  church  itself,  just  above 
the  door,  has  been  preserved  in  this  way,  and 
surmounted  with  an  inscription,  that  does  more 
honour  to  the  piety  than  to  the  poetry  of  the 
city.  The  Elster,  which  runs  through  part  of 
the  suburbs,  and  occasioned  the  final  destruction 
of  the  French  army,  is  in  reality  but  a  ditch, 


THE  ARTS.  229 

and  neither  a  deep  nor  a  broad  one.  Where  it 
washes  the  garden  of  Mr  Reichenbach's  summer 
pavilion,  it  received  Poniatowski,  who,  already 
wounded,  took  his  way  through  the  garden, 
when  all  was  lost,  and  sunk,  with  his  wounded 
horse,  in  this  apparently  innocuous  rivulet.  A 
plain  stone  marks  the  spot  where  the  body  was 
found  ;  and,  in  the  garden  itself,  an  unadorned 
cenotaph  has  been  erected  by  private  affection  to 
the  memory  of  the  Polish  chief. 

In  the  cemetery,  one  of  the  largest  and  most 
homely  in  Europe,  whose  most  interesting  grave 
is  that  of  Gellert,  the  pious  father  of  German  li- 
terature, I  observed  an  old  epitaph,  extremely 
characteristic  of  the  reigning  spirit  of  the  place, 
but  in  much  too  light  a  strain  to  be  imitated, 
though  undoubtedly  the  writer  held  it,  in  his 
day,  to  be  a  very  ingenious  combination  of  piety 
and  bank  business.  It  is  in  the  forin  of  a  bill  of 
exchange  for  a  certain  quantity  of  salvation, 
drawn  on  and  accepted  by  the  Messiah,  in  fa- 
vour of  the  merchant  who  is  buried  below,  and 
payable  in  heaven,  at  the  day  of  judgment. 

Every  citizen  of  Leipzig  boasts  of  the  church 
of  St  Nicholas  and  its  paintings,  as  a  splendid 


230  LEIPZIG. 

proof  of  the  good  taste  of  his  mercantile  city  in 
the  arts,  and  the  munificence  with  which  ir  has 
cherished  them.  It  has  the  singular  merit  of 
being  in  the  form  of  a  square,  a  very  questiona- 
ble innovation.  The  Corinthian  pillars,  which 
separate  the  nave  from  the  aisles,  are  handsome 
objects  in  themselves,  but  the  barbarous  or  fan- 
tastic architect  has  enveloped  the  capitals  in 
sprawling  bunches  of  palm  leaves,  a  deplorable 
substitute  for  the  acanthus.  He  seems  to  have 
had  some  idea  in  his  head  of  making  the  roof 
appear  to  rest  on  palm  trees.  In  general,  it  is 
difficult  to  judge  of  architectural  beauty  in  the 
interior  of  a  Protestant  church,  provided  with 
all  its  accommodations ;  for  the  arrangements 
required,  or  supposed  to  be  required,  by  the 
Protestant  service,  are  frequently  incompatible 
with  architectural  effect.  The  galleries,  for  ex- 
ample, take  all  beauty  from  the  pillars  which 
they  divide ;  and  here  there  is  a  double  tier  of 
them.  Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  and  San  Paolo 
fuori  delle  Mura,  (while  it  yet  stood,)  present  the 
noblest  architectural  perspectives  in  Europe; 
but  what  would  become  of  them,  if  their  pillars 
were  loaded  with  galleries  ? 


THE  BOOK-TRADE.  231 

The  altar-piece  of  this  church,  as  well  as  the 
host  of   Scriptural  paintings  which  cover  the 
walls  of  the  choir,  are  all  from  the  pencil  of 
Oeser,  an  artist  of  the  last  century,  who  enjoy- 
ed, in  his  day,  a  reputation  which  the  church  of 
St  Nicholas  does  not  justify.     To  the  uninitiat- 
ed eye,  at  least,  his  productions  here   are  defi- 
cient in  expression,    in    effect,  and  variety  of 
grouping,  and  languish  under  a  weak  monoton- 
ous colouring.      The  modern  German  painters 
have  very  generally  forsaken  the  department  in 
which  the  old  artists  of  their  country  performed 
such  wonders  :  that  palm  has  passed  to  Scotland. 
Labouring  to  form  themselves,  as  it  is  styled, 
after  the  Italian  masters,  they  degenerate  into 
insipid  mannerists,  and  fill  the  world  with  eter- 
nal repetitions  of  Madonnas  and  Holy  Families. 
As  Frankfort  monopolizes  the  trade  in  wine, 
so  Leipzig  monopolizes  the  trade  in  books.     It 
is  here  that  every  German  author  (and  in  no 
country  are  authors  so  numerous)  wishes  to  pro- 
duce the  children  of  his  brain,  and  that,  too,  on- 
ly during  the  Easter  fair.     He  will  submit  to 
any  degree  of  exertion,  that  his  work  may  be 
ready  for  publication  by  that  important  season, 


232  LEIPZIG. 

when  the  whole  brotherhood  is  in  labour,  from 
the  Rhine  to  the  Vistula.  Whatever  the  period 
of  gestation  may  be,  the  time  when  he  shall  come 
to  the  birth  is  fixed  by  the  Almanack.  If  the 
auspicious  moment  pass  away,  he  willingly  bears 
his  burden  twelve  months  longer,  till  the  next 
advent  of  the  Bibliopolical  Lucina.  This  perio- 
dical littering  at  Leipzig  does  not  at  all  arise, 
as  is  sometimes  supposed,  from  all  or  most  of 
the  books  being  printed  there  ;  Leipzig  has  on- 
ly its  own  proportion  of  printers  and  publishers. 
It  arises  from  the  manner  in  which  this  branch 
of  trade  is  carried  on  in  Germany.  Every  book- 
seller of  any  eminence,  throughout  the  Confe- 
deration, has  an  agent  or  commissioner  in  Leip- 
zig. If  he  wishes  to  procure  works  which  have 
been  published  by  another,  he  does  not  address 
himself  directly  to  the  publisher,  but  to  his  own 
commissioner  in  Leipzig.  This  is  not  all,  for 
the  latter,  whether  he  be  ordered  to  transmit  to 
another  books  published  by  his  principal,  or  to 
procure  for  his  principal  books  published  by 
another,  instead  of  dealing  directly  with  the  per- 
son from  whom  he  is  to  purchase,  or  to  whom 
he  is  to  sell,  treats  only  with  his  Leipzig  agent. 


THE  BOOK-TRADE.  233 

The  order  is  received  by  the  publisher,  and  the 
books  by  the  purchaser  at  third  hand.  The 
whole  book-trade  of  Germany  thus  centres  in 
Leipzig.  Wherever  books  may  be  printed,  it 
is  there  they  must  be  bought ;  it  is  there  that 
the  trade  is  supplied.  Such  an  arrangement, 
though  it  employ  four  persons  in  every  sale  in- 
stead of  two,  is  plainly  an  advantageous  ar- 
rangement for  Leipzig ;  but  the  very  fact,  that 
it  has  subsisted  two  hundred  years,  and  still 
flourishes,  seems  to  prove  that  it  is  likewise 
found  to  be  beneficial  to  the  trade  in  general. 
Abuses  in  public  institutions  may  endure  for 
centuries ;  but  inconvenient  arrangements  in 
trade,  which  affect  the  credit  side  of  a  man's  ba- 
lance-sheet at  the  end  of  the  year,  are  seldom  so 
long-lived.  German  booksellers,  moreover,  are 
not  less  attentive  to  profit  than  any  other  honest 
men  in  an  honest  business.  They  even  reckon 
among  the  advantages  of  this  system,  the  saving 
which  it  enables  them  to  make  in  the  article  of 
carriage.  If  a  bookseller  in  Berlin  has  ordered 
books  from  Vienna,  Strasburg,  Munich,  Stutt- 
gard,  and  a  dozen  other  places,  they  are  all  de- 
posited with  Jiis  Leipzig  agent,  who  then  for- 


284  LEIPZIG. 

wards  them  in  one  mass  much  more  cheaply 
than  if  each  portion  had  been  sent  separately 
and  directly  to  Berlin. 

Till  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century,  pub- 
lishers, in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word,  were 
unknown.  John  Otto,  born  at  Niirnberg  in 
1510,  is  said  to  be  the  earliest  on  record  who 
made  bargains  for  copy-right,  without  being 
himself  a  printer*  Some  years  afterwards,  two 
regular  dealers  in  the  same  department  settled 
in  Leipzig,  where  the  university,  already  in  high 
fame,  had  produced  a  demand  for  books,  from 
the  moment  the  art  of  printing  wandered  up 
from  the  Rhine.  Before  the  end  of  the  century, 
the  book-fair  was  established.  It  prospered  so 
rapidly,  that,  in  1600,  the  Easter  catalogue, 
which  has  been  annually  continued  ever  since, 
was  printed  for  the  first  time.  It  now  presents 
every  year,  in  a  thick  octavo  volume,  a  collec- 
tion of  new  books  and  new  editions,  to  which 
there  is  no  parallel  in  Europe.  The  writing 
public  is  out  of  all  proportion  too  large  for  the 
reading  public  of  Germany.  At  the  fair,  all 
the  brethren  of  the  trade  flock  together  in  Leip- 
zig, not  only  from  every  part  of  Germany,  but 


PIRATICAL   PRINTERS.  235 

from  every  European  country  where  German 
books  are  sold,  to  settle  accounts,  and  examine 
the  harvest  of  the  year.  The  number  always 
amounts  to  several  hundreds,  and  they  have 
built  an  exchange  for  themselves. 

Yet  a  German  publisher  has  less  chance  of 
making  great  profits,  and  a  German  author  has 
fewer  prospects  of  turning  his  manuscript  to 
good  account,  than  the  same  classes  of  persons 
in  any  other  country  that  knows  the  value  of 
intellectual  labour.  There  is  a  pest  called 
Naclidruckerei)  or  Reprinting,  which  knaws  on 
the  vitals  of  the  poor  author,  and  paralyzes  the 
most  enterprising  publisher.  Each  State  of 
the  Confederation  has  its  own  law  of  copy-right ; 
and  an  author  is  secured  against  piracy  only  in 
the  state  where  he  prints.  But  he  writes  for 
all,  for  they  all  speak  the  same  language.  If 
the  book  be  worth  any  thing,  it  is  immediately 
reprinted  in  some  neighbouring  state,  and,  as 
the  reprinter  pays  nothing  for  copy-right,  he 
can  obviously  afford  to  undersell  the  original 
publisher.  Wirtemberg,  though  she  can  boast 
of  possessing  in  Cotta  one  of  the  most  honour- 
able and  enterprising  publishers  of  Germany,  is 


236  LEIPZIG. 

peculiarly  notorious  as  a  nest  for  these  birds  of 
prey.  There  are  various  well  known  booksell- 
ers who  scarcely  drive  any  other  branch  of  trade. 
So  soon  as  a  book  appears  which  promises  to 
sell  well,  they  put  forth  a  cheaper  edition,  which 
drives  the  legitimate  one  from  the  market,  and 
nothing  remains  for  the  publisher  but  to  buy  off 
the  rascally  pirate  with  any  sum  which  his  ra- 
pacity may  demand.  The  worst  of  it  is,  that 
authors  of  reputation  are  precisely  those  to 
whom  the  system  is  most  fatal.  The  reprinter 
meddles  with  nothing  except  what  he  already 
knows  will  find  buyers.  The  rights  of  unsale- 
able books  are  scrupulously  observed  ;  the  ho- 
nest publisher  is  never  disturbed  in  his  losing 
speculations ;  but,  when  he  has  been  fortunate 
enough  to  become  master  of  a  work  of  genius 
or  utility,  the  piratical  publisher  is  instantly  in 
his  way.  All  the  states  do  not  deserve  to  be  equal- 
ly involved  in  this  censure,  Prussia,  I  believe,  has 
shown  herself  liberal  in  protecting  every  Ger- 
man publisher.  Some  of  the  utterly  insignifi- 
cant states  are  among  the  most  troublesome,  for 
reprinting  can  be  carried  on  in  a  small  just  as 
well  as  in  a  great  one.  The  bookseller  who 


PIRATICAL  PRINTERS.  237 

published  Reinhardt's  Sermons  was  attacked  by 
a  reprint,  which  was  announced  as  about  to  ap- 
pear at  Reutlingen,  in  Wirtemberg.  The  pi- 
rate demanded  fourteen  thousand  florins,  nearly 
twelve  hundred  pounds,  to  give  up  his  design. 
The  publisher  thought  that  so  exorbitant  a  de- 
mand justified  him  in  applying  to  the  govern- 
ment, but  all  he  could  gain  was  the  limitation 
of  the  sum  to  a  thousand  pounds. 

Such  a  system  almost  annihilates  the  value  of 
literary  labour.  No  publisher  can  pay  a  high 
price  for  a  manuscript,  by  which,  if  it  turn  out 
ill,  he  is  sure  to  be  a  loser,  and  by  which,  if  it 
turn  out  well,  it  is  far  from  certain  that  he  will 
be  a  gainer.  From  the  value  which  he  might 
otherwise  be  inclined  to  set  on  the  copy-right, 
he  must  always  deduct  the  sum  which  it  pro- 
bably will  be  necessary  to  expend  in  buying 
off  reprinters,  or  he  must  calculate  that  value  on 
the  supposition  of  a  very  limited  circulation. 
At  what  rate  would  Mr  Murray  pay  Lord 
Byron,  or  Mr  Constable  take  the  manuscript  of 
the  Scottish  Novels,  if  the  statute  protected  the 
one  only  in  the  county  of  Middlesex,  and  the 
other  only  in  the  county  of  Edinburgh  ?  Hence 


238  LEIPZIG. 

it  is  that  German  authors,  though  the  most  in- 
dustrious, are  likewise  the  worst  remunerated 
of  the  writing  tribe.  I.  have  heard  it  said,  that 
Gothe  has  received  for  some  of  his  works  about 
a  louis  d'or  a  sheet,  and  it  is  certain  that  he  has 
made  much  money  by  them ;  but  I  have  often 
likewise  heard  the  statement  questioned  as  in- 
credible.  Burger,  in  his  humorous  epistle  to 
Gokingk,  estimates  poetry  at  a  pound  per  sheet ; 
law  and  medicine  at  five  shillings. 

The  unpleasing  exterior  of  ordinary  German 
printing,  the  coarse  watery  paper,  and  worn-out 
types,  must  be  referred,  in  some  measure,  to 
the  same  cause.  The  publisher,  or  the  author 
who  publishes  on  his  own  account,  naturally 
risks  as  little  capital  as  possible  in  the  hazard- 
ous speculation.  Besides,  it  is  his  interest  to 
diminish  the  temptation  to  reprint,  by  making 
his  own  edition  as  cheap  as  may  be.  The  sys- 
tem has  shown  its  effects,  too,  in  keeping  up  the 
frequency  of  publication  by  subscription,  even 
among  authors  of  the  most  settled  and  popular 
reputation.  Klopstock,  after  the  Messiah  had 
fixed  his  fame,  published  in  this  way.  There 
has  been  no  more  successful  publisher  than 


MR  BROCKHAUS.  239 

Cotta,  and  no  German  writer  has  been  so  well 
repaid  as  Gothe  ;  yet  the  last  Tubingen  edition 
of  Gothe  himself  is  adorned  with  a  long  list  of 
subscribers.  What  would  we  think  of  Byron, 
or  Campbell,  or  Scott,  or  Moore,  publishing  a 
new  poem  by  subscription  ? 

Mr  Brockhaus  is  allowed  to  be  the  most  effi- 
cient publisher  in  Leipzig,  and  consequently 
among  the  first  in  Germany.     He  is  a  writer, 
too,  for,  on  miscellaneous,  particularly  political 
topics,  he  frequently  supplies  his  own  manu- 
script.   He  is  supposed  to  have  made  a  fortune 
by  one  work  on  which  he  ventured,  the  Co«- 
•versations-Lexicon,  a  very  compendious  Ency- 
clopaedia.    The  greatest  fault  of  the  book  is  a 
want  of  due  selection ;    personages  of  eternal 
name,  and  topics  of  immutable  interest,  are  con- 
tracted or  omitted,  to  make  way  for  men  and 
matters  that  only  enjoy  a  local  and  passing  no- 
toriety.   Even  a  Britannica,  with  a  Supplement, 
should  not  waste  its  pages  on  short-lived  topics, 
and  only  the  quinta  pars  nectaris  of  human 
knowledge  and  biography  should  be  admitted 
into  an  Encyclopaedia  of  ten  octavo  volumes. 
The  book}  however,  has  had  a  very  extensive 


LEIPZIG. 


circulation,  and  often  forms  the  whole  library  of 
a  person  in  the  middling  classes.  It  would  have 
proved  still  more  lucrative,  had  the  writers, 
among  whom  are  many  of  the  most  popular 
names  of  Germany,  shown  greater  deference  to 
the  political  creeds  of  the  leading  courts.  The 
numerous  political  articles,  not  merely  on  sub- 
jects of  general  discussion,  but  on  recent  events, 
important  and  unimportant,  are  all  on  the  li- 
beral side  of  the  question  ;  moderate,  indeed, 
argumentative,  and  respectful,  but  still  pointing 
at  the  propriety  of  political  changes.  The 
book  was  admitted  into  the  Russian  dominions 
only  in  the  form  of  an  editio  castigata  ;  from 
this  tree  of  knowledge  were  carefully  shaken  all 
the  fruits  which  might  enable  the  nations  to  dis- 
tinguish between  good  and  evil  before  it  was 
allowed  to  be  transplanted  beyond  the  Vis- 
tula. Even  in  this  ameliorated  state,  it  be- 
gan to  be  regarded  as,  at  least,  lurid,  if  not 
downright  poisonous,  and  ultimately  was  prohi- 
bited altogether. 

Brockhaus  is,  by  way  of  eminence,  the  liberal 
publisher  of  Germany.  He  shuns  no  respon- 
sibility, and  stands  in  constant  communication 


MR  BROCKHAUS.  241 

with  all  the  popular  journalists  and  pamphle- 
teers. His  Zeitgenosse,  or,  The  Contemporary, 
was  a  journal  entirely  devoted  to  politics.  It 
frequently  contained  translations  of  leading  po- 
litical articles  from  the  Edinburgh  Review ; 
and  these,  again,  were  sometimes  reprinted  and 
circulated  as  pamphlets.  The  Hermes  is  of  the 
same  general  character,  a  quarterly  publication, 
which  apes  in  form,  as  well  as  matter,  one  of 
our  most  celebrated  journals.  In  1821,  his 
weekly  journal,  The  Conversations-Wochen- 
blatt,  was  prohibited  in  Berlin,  and  shortly  af- 
terwards, it  was  thought  necessary  to  erect  a 
separate  department  of  the  Censorship  for  the 
sole  purpose  of  examining  and  licensing  Brock- 
haus's  publications.  The  prohibition  was  speedi- 
ly removed,  and  I  believe  (but  I  had  left  Berlin 
before  it  happened)  that  likewise  the  separate 
censorial  establishment  was  of  brief  duration. 
Brockhaus  has  brought  himself  out  of  all  politi- 
cal embarrassments,  with  great  agility  and  good 
fortune,  and  still  rails  on  at  despots  and  re- 
printers. 

Beyond  Leipzig  the   small   river    Mulda  is 
crossed  by  a  ferry,  and  that,  too,  on  the  great 

VOL.  I.  L 


242  THE  ELB£. 

road  which  connects  Leipzig  with  Dresden,  Bo- 
hemia, Silesia,  and  Austria.  There  is  no  suffi- 
cient excuse  for  this  most  inconvenient  arrange- 
ment. The  Mulda  is  a  trifling  stream  in  com- 
parison with  the  Elbe,  and  is  less  exposed  to 
inundations ;  yet  no  difficulty  has  been  found  in 
building  even  stone  bridges  across  the  Elbe. 
It  is  on  a  solid,  though  somewhat  clumsy  struc- 
ture of  this  kind,  that  you  pass  the  river  at 
Meissen ;  and,  though  still  a  dozen  miles  from 
Dresden,  you  are  already  in  the  country,  which, 
by  its  mixture  of  romantic  nature  with  the 
richest  possible  cultivation,  has  acquired  to 
Dresden  the  reputation  of  being  surrounded  by 
more  delightful  environs  than  any  other  Euro- 
pean capital.  All  the  way  to  the  city  the  road 
follows  the  Elbe,  which  pours  its  majestic  stream 
between  banks  of  very  opposite  character.  The 
left  rises  abrupt,  rocky,  woody,  picturesque ; 
the  right  swells  more  gradually  into  graceful 
and  verdant  eminences,  whose  slopes  towards 
the  river  are  covered  with  vineyards.  In  all 
these  features  of  natural  beauty,  the  Elbe  is  in- 
ferior to  the  Rhine,  but  only  to  the  Rhine,  and 
on  the  Rhine  there  is  no  town  where  the  enjoy- 


DKESDEN.  243 

ment  always  derived  from  beautiful  scenery  is 
so  much  heightened  by  the  pleasures  of  society, 
and  the  splendid  productions  of  art.  Much  as 
a  stranger  may  have  heard  of  Dresden,  the  ap- 
proach to  it  from  this  side  does  not  disappoint 
his  expectations.  From  the  rich  and  picturesque 
scenery  of  nature,  he  enters  at  once  among  pa- 
laces, passes  the  Elbe,  from  the  New  Town  to 
the  Old,  on  a  noble  bridge,  a  most  refreshing 
sight  to  a  Briton,  is  immediately  stopped  by  the 
gorgeous  and  imposing  pile  of  the  Catholic 
church,  and  turns  from  it  to  the  royal  palace. 
What  were  once  lofty  ramparts  now  bear  spacious 
alleys  along  the  river,  in  which  innumerablelaugh- 
ing  groupes  are  perpetually  enjoying  the  scene 
or  the  shade.  The  gaiety  of  the  hurrying  equi- 
pages, the  crowd  of  passengers,  the  apparent 
vivacity  and  hilarity  of  the  people,  give  a  most 
favourable  first  impression  of  the  "  German 
Florence."  It  is  true,  that  such  figurative 
terms  of  comparison  are  often  used  very  loose- 
ly ;  but,  although  a  German,  be  he  from  the 
north  or  from  the  south,  is  always  a  very  dif- 
ferent person  from  an  Italian ;  though  the 
cloudless  sky  that  burns  above  the  Arno  be 


244  DRESDEN. 

more  constant  than  the  sun  which  shines  upon 
the  Elbe ;  and  though  the  capital  of  Saxony 
neither  possesses  the  Medicean  Venus,  nor  has 
formed  schools  of  painters  and  sculptors  to  be 
the  wonders  of  the  world,  yet,  in  its  natural 
beauties,  in  the  character  of  its  inhabitants,  in 
its  love  of  the  arts,  and  what  it  has  done  for 
them,  Dresden  may  be  fairly  enough  said  to  be 
to  Germany  what  Florence  is  to  Italy. 

The  city  is  divided  by  the  Elbe.  Originally  it 
stood  entirely  on  the  left  bank.  That  portion  is 
still  the  largest  and  most  characteristic  part  of  the 
whole,  and,  as  it  contains  the  palace,  is  likewise 
the  most  fashionable.  The  general  style  of  build- 
ing is  simple,  austere,  and,  therefore,  when  in 
due  dimensions,  imposing.  It  is  easily  seen,  that 
the  Saxon  nobles,  in  building  palaces,  thought 
chiefly  of  convenience  and  duration,  not  of  pil- 
lared portals  and  airy  verandas.  The  houses  are 
lofty,  and  the  streets  narrow,  as  in  all  old  towns 
in  this  part  of  the  Continent ;  but  some  of  the 
principal  streets  are  of  ample  breadth,  and  lined 
with  very  stately,  though  unadorned  buildings. 
There  is  not  a  square,  properly  so  called,  in  the 
whole  city,  except  two  immense  market-places, 
12 


THE  CITY.  245 

one  of  which,  the  Alt  mark  t,  is  a  fine  specimen 
of  the  ordinary  civil  architecture  of  Germany, 
and  does  not  lose  in  comparison  even  with 
the  Hof  of  Vienna.  Here,  however,  as  every 
where  else,  of  late  years  a  love  of  trivial  orna- 
ment has  been  creeping  in,  which  assuredly  is  far 
inferior  to  the  substantial  simplicity  of  their  fa- 
thers. People  will  have  pilasters,  aye,  and  pil- 
lars, too,  and  entablatures,  and  pediments,  where 
there  is  no  space  for  them  ;  and  where,  though 
there  were  space,  they  would  have  no  beauty. 
In  our  own  cities,  while  public  buildings  have 
long  been  conducted  with  much  good  taste  in  the 
south,  and  some  aspirations  after  it  seem  to  be 
rising  in  the  north,  how  often  do  we  see  a  cheese- 
monger's wares  reposing  in  state  round  the  base 
of — Doric  pillars,  I  suppose  they  must  be  called, 
or  flitches  of  bacon  proudly  suspended  from  the 
volutes  of  the  Ionic. 

The  Neustadt,  or  New  Town,  on  the  opposite 
bank  of  the  Elbe,  is  more  open,  for  the  attach- 
ment to  narrow  streets  was  beginning  to  give 
way  when  it  was  commenced  ;  but  it  is  built  in 
a  more  trivial  style :  at  least,  it  has  that  ap- 
pearance to  the  eye ;  for,  as  few  people  of  fa- 


246  DRESDEN. 

shion  have  hitherto  emigrated  across  the  Elbe, 
there  is  not  the  same  frequent  intermixture  of 
stately  mansions.  The  principal  street,  however, 
which  runs  in  a  right  line  from  the  bridge,  is 
the  finest  in  Dresden.  Were  it  better  planted, 
it  would  more  than  rival  the  Linden  of  Berlin. 

The  bridge  which  connects  these  two  parts  of 
the  city,  striding  across  the  river  with  eleven  no- 
ble arches,  is  the  first  structure  of  the  kind  in 
Germany.  In  architectural  symmetry  and  ele- 
gance, it  cannot  vie  with  many  of  the  French,  or 
with  some  of  the  Italian  bridges ;  but  the  streams 
which  these  cross  are  ditches,  compared  with  the 
magnificent  river  which  pours  its  waters  under 
the  walls  of  Dresden.  There  is  not  a  single 
stone  bridge  on  the  Rhine,  from  where  it  leaves 
the  Lake  of  Constance  to  where  it  divides  itself 
among  the  flats  of  Holland.  *  The  Danube,  at 
Ratisbonne,  is  a  much  more  manageable  stream 


*  I  cannot  trust  to  my  recollection  whether  the  bridge 
on  the  Rhine  at  Lauffenburg,  between  Schaffhausen  and 
Basle,  is  of  wood  or  stone  ;  but  there  the  river  could  be 
surmounted  by  a  bridge  infinitely  more  easily  than  the 
Elbe  at  Dresden. 


THE  BRIDGE.  247 

than  the  Elbe ;   and,  moreover,  the  bridge  at 
Ratisbonne  is  ugly,  unequal,  not  even  uniform, 
and  very  ricketty.     The  good  Viennese,  so  far 
from  attempting  to  throw  a  stone  bridge  across 
the  Danube,  where  he  passes  near  their  capital, 
extolled  it  as  an  unparalleled  triumph  of  art 
when,   a  few  years  ago,   they  built  a  wooden 
bridge,  on  stone  piers,  over  a  narrow  branch  of 
the  main  stream,  which  washes  the  walls.     The 
bridges  on  the  Oder  at  Frankfort  and  Breslau, 
and  that  on  the  Vistula  at  Cracow,  are  all  of 
wood.     The  best  proof  of  the   solidity  of  the 
bridge  of  Dresden  is,  that  it  has  hitherto  resisted 
ice  and  inundations,  both  of  which  are  peculiar- 
ly destructive  on  this  part  of  the  river.    The  in- 
undations come  down  from  the  mountains  of  Bo- 
hemia very  rapidly,  and,  owing  to  the  nature  of 
the  country  through  which  the  river  flows  till  it 
approaches  the  city,  with  irresistible  impetuosity. 
The  northern  confines  of  the  Saxon  Switzerland 
are  not  more  than  ten  miles  above  Dresden,  and, 
till  the  Elbe  has  quitted  this  singular  district,  it 
traverses  only  deep  narrow  valleys,  or  rugged 
gorges,  through  which  it  seems  to  have  opened 
a  passage.    There  is  no  breadth  of  plain,  as  there 


248  DRESDEN. 

is  along  the  Rhine,  over  which  an  inundation  can 
spread  itself  out.  The  accumulated  mass  of  wa- 
ter is  hurried  down  to  Dresden  with  accumulat- 
ing impetus.  I  have  seen  the  Elbe  rise  sixteen 
feet  above  its  ordinary  level  within  twelve  hours. 
Such  a  course  in  a  river  is  ruinous  for  bridges. 
That  of  Dresden,  which  has  set  the  Elbe  at  de- 
fiance, could  not  resist  gunpowder  ;  the  French 
blew  up  the  centre  arch,  to  facilitate  their  re- 
treat to  Leipzig.  Of  course,  it  was  perfectly 
right  to  repair  it ;  but  why  has  that  barbarous 
mass  of  artificial  rock,  surmounted  by  an  un- 
couth crucifix,  been  restored,  to  disfigure  the 
centre  of  the  bridge,  after  it  had  fortunately  been 
blown  up  along  with  the  arch  ?  It  is  an  incum- 
brance,  and  a  very  ugly  one :  having  been  once 
fairly  got  rid  of,  it  really  did  not  deserve  to  be 
restored.  Yet  the  Emperor  of  Russia  has 
thought  proper  to  commemorate,  by  an  inscrip- 
tion, that  he  restored  what  disfigures  the  finest 
bridge  in  Germany.  The  slender  iron  rail,  too, 
which  occupies  the  place  of  a  balustrade,  is  alto- 
gether trivial.  This  is  no  draw-bridge  over  a 
canal. 

The  prospect  from  the  bridge  itself  is  cele- 


THE  ROYAL  FAMILY.  249 

brated  all  over  Germany,  and  deserves  to  be  so. 
Whether  you  look  up  or  down  the  river,  the 
towers  and  palaces  of  the  city  are  pictured  in  the 
stream.  A  lovely  plain,  groaning  beneath  po- 
pulation and  fertility,  retires  for  a  short  distance 
from  the  further  bank,  then  swells  up  into  an 
amphitheatre  of  gentle  slopes,  laid  out  in  vine- 
yards, decked  with  an  endless  succession  of  vil- 
lages and  villas,  and  shut  in,  towards  the  south, 
by  the  summits  of  the  Sachsische  Schweitz,  a 
branch  of  the  mountains  of  Bohemia. 

The  royal  palace — but  who  can  tell  what  the 
royal  palace  of  Dresden  is  ? — it  is  composed  of 
so  many  pieces,  running  up  one  street,  and  down 
another,  and  so  carefully  is  every  part  concealed 
that  might  have  looked  respectable.  One  sees 
no  order  ;  the  eye  traces  no  connection  among 
the  masses  of  which  it  is  made  up,  and  seeks  in 
vain  for  a  whole.  Unfortunately,  that  portion 
whicn,  from  its  situation,  could  have  made  some 
show,  that  which  fronts  the  open  space  at  the 
entrance  of  the  bridge,  is  the  most  unseemly  of 
all,  and  has  the  air  of  a  prison. 

The  royal  family  which  inhabits  this  palace  has 
the  best  of  all  testimonies  in  its  favour,  that  of 


DRESDEN. 

the  people.  Its  younger  branches,  indeed,  ne- 
phews of  the  king,  are  persons  of  whom  scarcely 
any  body  thinks  of  speaking  at  all ;  but  the  king 
himself  is  the  object  of  universal  reverence  and 
affection.  The  Saxons,  though  too  sensible  to 
boast  of  his  talents,  maintain  that  he  is  the  most 
upright  prince  in  Europe,  and  all  allow  him 
those  moral  qualities  which  most  easily  secure 
the  affection  of  a  German  people,  and  best  de- 
serve the  affection  of  any  people.  The  political 
misfortunes  which  overtook  Saxony  when  Napo- 
leon was  no  longer  able  to  protect  her,  rendered 
them  neither  peevish  nor  impatient.  Though 
the  conqueror  flattered  their  pride  by  treating 
their  country  with  great  respect,  and  even  re- 
stored, in  some  measure,  the  Polish  supremacy 
of  the  Electorate,  by  creating  for  it  the  Grand 
Duchy  of  Warsaw,  they  are  no  fonder  of  France 
than  their  brethren ;  but  neither  do  they  conceal 
their  grudge  against  the  powers  who  punished 
Saxony  for  Napoleon's  kindness,  by  giving  so 
much  of  its  territory  to  Prussia.  Germans  are 
the  very  last  people  with  whom  partitioning 
schemes  should  be  tried,  for  they  are  the  very 
last  that  will  amalgamate  themselves  with  ano- 


THE  ROYAL  FAMILY.  251 

ther.  Attachment  to  his  native  prince  is  part 
of  a  German's  nature ;  no  man  finds  so  much  diffi- 
culty in  conquering  old  affections  and  preju- 
dices. 

For  a  century  the  Saxons  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  have  a  king  of  a  different  religion  from 
their  own.  The  electoral  crown,  which,  from  the 
first  thesis  of  Luther,  had  been  the  boast  and 
bulwark  of  the  Reformation,  was  regained  for  the 
church  of  Rome  by  the  throne  of  Poland.  The 
difference,  however,  does  not  seem  to  produce 
any  cause  of  discontent  or  complaint,  except  that 
the  most  important  personages  about  the  court 
are  naturally  Catholics.  The  royal  family 
is  surrounded  by  them,  and,  it  is  asserted, 
is  studiously  kept  in  the  trammels  of  the  priest- 
hood. There  is  no  intolerance,  no  exclusion  of 
Protestants  ;  but  it  is  not  possible  for  so  devout 
and  priest-ridden  a  Catholic  as  the  king  is,  to  con- 
sider the  heretical  among  his  courtiers  as  equally 
fit  companions  for  the  royal  presence,  and  deposi- 
taries of  the  royal  confidence,  with  the  orthodox ; 
and  it  is  just  as  little  possible,  that  the  Catholic 
priesthood  should  not  govern  absolutely  so  de- 
vout a  king.  Protestantism  suffers,  too,  in  ano- 


252  DRESDEN. 

ther  way.  Where  any  portion  of  the  Roman 
hierarchy;  perhaps  of  any  hierarchy,  nestles,  the 
spirit  of  proselytism  is  immediately  aroused. 
Where  it  rules  a  court,  and  basks  in  the  light  of 
royal  favour,  it  arms  itself  with  much  more 
powerful  weapons  than  argument.  As  the  Elector 
of  Saxony  was  converted  by  the  prospect  of  a 
new  crown,  so  his  subjects  may  be  just  as  easily 
converted  by  the  prospect  of  facilitating  their 
advancement  to  honours,  and  offices,  and  sa- 
laries. 

In  one  thing  the  king  and  his  capital  never 
have  agreed,  and  never  will  agree ;  the  king 
loves  quiet  and  priests ;  his  subjects  love  mirth 
and  ballet-dancers.  This  people,  abounding  in 
corn  and  wine,  living  in  a  laughing  and  beauti- 
ful country,  and  infected,  in  part,  by  the  crowds 
of  strangers  who  flock  together  to  admire  the 
riches  of  their  capital,  are  fond  of  society  and 
amusement.  They  are  more  light-hearted,  they 
have  more  easy  gaiety  about  them,  than  any  of 
their  countrymen ;  nor  is  it  soiled  by  the  gross 
sensuality  of  Vienna.  The  king  has  no  liking  for 
any  of  these  things ;  the  passing  pleasures  of  life 
have  no  charm  for  him.  This  does  not  arise 


THE  ROYAL  FAMILY.  253 

from  his  advanced  age,  for  it  has  always  been  so; 
it  is  in  his  character,  and  has  been  greatly  foster- 
ed by  feelings  of  devotion,  degenerating  almost 
into  the  ascetic.  The  court  of  Dresden  indulges 
so  little  in  pomp,  or  even  in  the  ordinary  amuse- 
ments of  fashionable  society,  that  one  could 
scarcely  discover  it  existed,  were  it  not  for  the 
royal  box  in  the  theatre,  and  the  grenadier 
guards  at  the  gate  of  the  palace.  The  Protestant 
gaiety  of  the  people  does  not  scruple  to  lay  the 
blame  of  this  sequestered  life  on  the  priests.  In 
particular,  they  allege  that  the  ecclesiastics,  to  in- 
sure the  continuance  of  their  domination,  have 
educated  the  young  princes,  not  like  young  men, 
but  like  old  women ;  kept  back,  no  doubt,  from 
much  that  is  bad,  but  likewise  from  much  more 
that  is  good  in  the  world ;  allowed  to  grow  up  in 
ignorance  of  every  thing  but  what  it  pleased 
their  bigotted  and  ghostly  instructors  they  should 
know ;  and  thus  bent  into  an  unnatural  quietude 
of  life,  and  passiveness  of  character,  which  are 
perhaps  not  a  whit  more  desirable  than  a  certain 
degree  of  irregularity.  This  is  not  the  social 
character  that  will  captivate  the  Saxons.  Au- 
gustus II.  was,  both  in  Poland  and  Saxony,  the 


254  DRESDEN'. 

most  splendid  of  sovereigns ;  under  him,  Dres- 
den was  "  the  Masque  of  Germany."  Augustus 
III.  loved  pleasure  to  extravagance.  The  pre- 
sent king  has  hurried  himself  and  his  court  into 
the  other  extreme.  It  was  reckoned  no  small 
triumph,  a  few  years  ago,  that  the  royal  counte- 
nance was  obtained  to  a  mimic  tournament,  at 
which  the  young  nobility,  armed  from  the  anti- 
quated treasures  of  the  Rustkammer,  tilted  va- 
liantly, in  the  arena  of  the  riding-school,  at  stuff- 
ed Turks,  and  fleshed  their  maiden  sabres  in 
pasteboard  Saracens.  If  Saxony  has  a  minister 
at  the  Sublime  Porte,  how  would  he  excuse  his 
master,  should  the  Great  Turk  get  into  a  great 
passion,  as  he  very  reasonably  might  do,  at  such 
amusements  being  allowed  in  the  court  of  an 
ally? 

I  observed  nothing  particularly  worthy  of  no- 
tice in  the  churches  of  Dresden,  either  in  their 
architecture  or  ornaments.  Every  body  tells 
you  to  admire  the  Frauenkirche,  as  being  built 
after  the  model  of  St  Peter's  ;  and  it  is  like  St 
Peter's  in  so  far  as  both  have  cupolas,  but  no 
farther.  I  doubt  not  but  the  dome  of  St 
Peter's  might  be  placed  like  an  extinguisher 


THE  CHCTRCHES.  255 

over  the  whole  crowded  octangular  pile  of  the 
Frauenkirche. 

The  Catholic  church,  as  being  devoted  to  the 
religion  of  a  very  devout  royal  family,  is  that  on 
which  most  splendour  has  been  lavished.    It  was 
built,  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  last  century,  on  a 
design  of  the  Italian  Chiaveri.    The  quantity  of 
ornament,  and  the  waved  facade,  with  its  inter- 
rupted cornices  and  broken  pediments,  announce 
at  once  the  degenerated  taste  which  had  appear- 
ed in  Italy  nearly  a  hundred  years  before,  and 
erected  such  piles  as  the  Salute  at  Venice,  and 
the  church  Delia  Sapienza  in  Rome,  which  dis- 
figures one  side  of  a  quadrangle  designed  by 
Michel  Angelo.     The  building  gains  by  its  si- 
tuation;  for  it  faces  the  Elbe,  just  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  bridge,  unencumbered  by  any  ad- 
joining edifice,  except  a  black,  covered  gallery, 
certainly  an  unseemly  appendage,  which,  for  the 
convenience  of  the  royal  family,  connects  it  with 
the  palace.    The  elevations  of  the  lower  part  are 
harmonious,  and  the  effect  of  the  whole  is  gor- 
geous ;  but  there  is  a  total  want  of  simplicity  and 
grandeur,  and  the  parapets  are  bristled  round 
with  grim  sandstone  saints.     The  more  simple 


256  DRESDEN. 

and  elegant  form  of  the  interior  is  injured  by 
the  galleries  for  the  accommodation  of  the  court. 
The  royal  pew,  quite  cased  in  glass,  is  literally 
a  hot-house. 

It  was  only  here  that  I  observed  that  decent 
custom  strictly  enforced,  (which  was  universal  in 
the  earlier  ages  of  the  church,)  of  making  all  fe- 
males take  their  places  on  one  side,  and  all  males 
on  the  other.  During  mass,  domestics  of  the 
royal  household,  armed  with  enormous  batons, 
patrole  the  nave  and  aisles  to  enforce  the  regula- 
tion, and  remove  all  pretences  as  well  as  oppor- 
tunities of  scandal.  The  system  of  separation 
was  not  observed,  however,  above  stairs,  among 
the  adherents  of  the  court ;  there,  the  sheep  and 
goats  were  praying  side  by  side.  This  decorum, 
too,  has  its  origin  in  the  purity  of  the  royal  cha- 
racter, though  truly  the  citizens  of  the  capital 
seem  to  value  this  most  estimable  virtue  much 
more  lowly  than  it  deserves.  His  majesty  ba- 
nished from  the  Temple  of  Venus  at  Pilnitz,  the 
portraits  of  ladies  celebrated  for  their  beauty  and 
gallantries,  which  had  given  the  apartment  its 
name  ;  and  he  retires  every  night  to  his  lonely 
couch  in  the  conviction  that  Vesta  presides  over 


THE  CHURCHES  £57 

his  capital.  It  is  most  honourable  to  himself, 
that,  both  by  his  own  example  and  by  police  re- 
gulations, he  has  done  all  in  his  power  to  render 
it  a  fitting  abode  for  the  Goddess ;  but  it  is  a 
pity  that  he  should  be  so  very  much  deceived  as 
to  the  effect  of  either.  At  the  same  time,  de- 
bauchery has  not  the  unblushing  notoriety  of 
Vienna  or  Munich. 

As  all  Germany  praises  the  music  in  this 
church,  it  must  be  good,  for  the  Germans  are 
judges  of  music  ;  but,  though  I  heard  it  in  East- 
er, when  the  sacred  harmony  of  Catholics  puts 
forth  all  its  powers,  I  must  confess  that  little 
pleasure  was  derived  from  the  noise  of  a  score 
of  fiddles,  which  the  organ,  though  built  by 
Silberman,  could  not  conquer,  and  the  voices 
of  the  choir,  though  adorned  by  that  of  an  Eu- 
nuch, could  not  sweeten.  It  is  not  merely  the 
casual  associations  which  may  fill  the  head  with 
reels  and  country  dances,  as  if  it  were  intended  to 

Make  the  soul  dance  upon  a  jig  to  Heaven ; 

these  are  instruments  whose  tones,  to  an  untu- 
tored ear,  at  least,  do  not  harmonize  with  feelings 
of  solemnity  and  devotion;  and  the  crowd  of 


258  DRESDEN. 

them  usually  pressed  into  the  service  of  the 
church,  takes  all  distinctness  and  effect  from  the 
vocal  music,  which  in  reality  becomes  the  ac- 
companiment, instead  of  being  the  principal  part 
of  the  composition.  After  hearing  Mozart's  Re- 
quiem, for  example,  performed  at  Berlin,  with 
the  full  complement  of  fiddles,  so  much  did  it 
gain  in  effect,  merely  from  their  absence,  that  I 
could  scarcely  recognize  the  composition  when 
given  in  Vienna  simply  by  the  choir  and  the  or- 
gan, except  where  the  trumpet,  echoing  along 
the  lofty  roof  of  St  Stephen,  seemed  to  send  its 
notes  from  the  clouds,  as  it  bore  up  the  accomr 
paniment  at, 

Tuba  mirum  spargens  sonura, 
Per  sepulchra  regionum, 
Coget  omnes  ante  thronum. 

Allegri's  famed  Miserere,  as  sung  in  the  Sis- 
tine  chapel  at  Rome,  during  Easter,  justifies 
the  belief  that,  for  purposes  of  devotion,  the  un- 
aided human  voice  is  the  most  impressive  of  all 
instruments.  If  such  a  choir  as  that  of  his  Ho-, 
liness  could  always  be  commanded,  the  organ 
itself  might  be  dispensed  with.  This,  however, 


THE  CHURCHES.  259 

is  no  fair  sample  of  the  powers  of  vocal  sacred 
music;  and  those  who  are  most  alive  to  the 
"  concord  of  sweet  sounds"  forget  that,  in  the 
mixture  of  feeling  produced  by  a  scene  so  im- 
posing as  the  Sistine  chapel  presents  on  such  an 
occasion,  it  is  difficult  to  attribute  to  the  music 
only  its  own  share  in  the  overwhelming  effect. 
The  Christian  world  is  in  mourning ;  the  throne 
of  the  Pontiff,  stripped  of  all  its  honours,  and 
uncovered  of  its  royal  canopy,  is  degraded  to 
the  simple  elbow-chair  of  an  aged  priest.  The 
Pontiff  himself,  and  the  congregated  digni- 
taries of  the  church,  divested  of  all  earthly 
pomp,  kneel  before  the  cross  in  the  unosten- 
tatious garb  of  their  religious  orders.  As  even- 
ing sinks,  and  the  tapers  are  extinguished  one 
after  another,  at  different  stages  of  the  service, 
the  fading  light  falls  ever  dimmer  and  dimmer 
on  the  reverend  figures.  The  prophets  and  saints 
of  Michel  Angelo  look  down  from  the  ceiling  on 
the  pious  worshippers  beneath  ;  while  the  living 
figures  of  his  Last  Judgment,  in  every  variety 
of  infernal  suffering  and  celestial  enjoyment,  gra- 
dually vanish  in  the  gathering  shade,  as  if  the 
scene  of  horror  had  closed  for  ever  on  the  one, 


DRESDEN. 

and  the  other  had  quitted  the  darkness  of  earth 
for  a  higher  world.  Is  it  wonderful  that,  in 
such  circumstances,  such  music  as  that  famed 
Miserere,  sung  by  such  a  choir,  should  shake 
the  soul  even  of  a  Calvinist  ? 

Except,  perhaps,  the  Viennese,  no  people  of 
Germany  are  so  fond  of  being  out  of  doors  as 
the  Saxons  of  Dresden,  for  none  of  its  capitals 
displays  so  many  temptations  to  allure  them  ; 
wood  and  water,  mountain  and  plain,  precipice 
and  valley,  corn  and  wine,  palace  and  cottage, 
tossed  together  in  bright  confusion,  and  glowing 
in  a  climate  which,  on  this  side  of  the  Alps,  may 
well  be  called  genial.  The  rising  grounds  which 
form  the  circle  to  the  south-east,  and  were  the 
principal  scene  of  the  combats  and  bombard- 
ments that  terminated  in  the  retreat  of  the 
French  army  to  Leipzig,  are  the  only  part  of 
the  environs  that  have  any  thing  like  lameness 
in  their  character.  Where  they  slope  down  to- 
wards the  town,  and  not  much  more  than  a 
mile  from  the  walls,  stands  the  lonely  monu- 
ment of  Moreau,  on  the  spot  where  he  fell.  It 
is  merely  a  square  block  of  granite,  surrounded 
below  by  large  unhewn  stones,  and  bearing  on 


MOREAU'S  MONUMENT. 

its  upper  surface  a  helmet,  a  sword,  and  a  laurel 
chaplet.  The  brief  inscription,  "  The  Hero 
Moreau  fell  here  by  the  side  of  Alexander,"  is 
worth  mentioning,  merely  to  notice  the  audacity 
with  which  some  unworthy  and  ungenerous  spir- 
it has  dared  to  violate  it.  An  unknown  but 
deliberate  hand  has  tried  to  efface  the  word 
Hero,  and  has  carved  above  it,  as  regularly  and 
deeply  as  the  rest  of  the  inscription,  the  word 
Traitor.  So  professionally  has  it  been  perform- 
ed, that  it  has  not  been  possible  to  obliterate 
entirely  this  degrading  exploit  of  cowardice  and 
malignity.  The  most  partial  admirers  of  that 
great  man  may  be  allowed  to  wish,  that,  after  so 
honourable  a  life,  he  had  fallen  on  a  less  ques- 
tionable field ;  but  the  rancour  which  could  de- 
secrate his  simple  monument,  was  infinitely  more 
detestable  than  even  the  imperial  enmity,  which 
honoured  with  its  hatred  his  talents  and  virtues 
when  alive.  A  French  gentleman,  on  being 
asked  at  Dresden,  whether  he  had  yet  visited 
the  monument  of  his  countryman,  answered 
with  passionate  vivacity,  "  Non;  il  n'etoit  pas 
mon  compatriote ;  car  moi,  je  suis  Fran$ais." 


262 


The  Frenchman  who  is  ashamed  of  Moreau  is 
a  man  of  whom  nobody  can  be  proud. 

The  most  remarkable  part  of  the  neighbour- 
hood, a  district  that  would  be  remarkable  in  any 
country,  is  the  Sachsische  Schweitz,  or  Saxon 
Switzerland;  and  it  is  visited  with  astonish- 
ment, even  after  the  wonders  of  the  real  Swit- 
zerland. The  latter,  indeed,  contains  infinitely 
finer  and  more  stupendous  things  ;  for  here  are 
no  glaciers,  no  snowy  summits  like  Mont  Blanc 
or  the  Jungfrau,  no  walls  of  rock  lost  in  the 
clouds  like  the  Wetterhorner  ;  but  Switzerland 
contains  nothing  of  the  same  kind.  Only  Adels- 
berg,  on  the  frontier  between  Silesia  and  Bohe- 
mia, approaches  it,  and  Adelsberg  is  still  more 
singular.  The  Saxon  Switzerland  commences 
about  eight  miles  above  Dresden,  and  follows 
the  course  of  the  Elbe  upwards,  lying  among 
the  mountains  which  form  the  boundary  be- 
tween Bohemia  and  Saxony.  A  short  way 
above  the  capital,  Pilnitz,  a  royal  residence  of 
historical  notoriety,  but  remarkable  in  no  other 
respect,  reflects  itself  in  the  waters  of  the  Elbe. 
About  four  miles  farther  up,  the  valley  closes  ; 
the  mountains  become  more  lofty  and  bare  ;  the 


THE  SAXON  SWITZERLAND.  263 

majestic  river  comes  forth  from  the  gorges  which 
you  are  about  to  enter,  quitting  at  length  the 
Tugged  and  mountainous  course  which  has  hem- 
med him  in  from  his  birth  in  the  mountains  of 
the  Giant,  and  destined  to  visit,  throughout  the 
rest  of  his  career,  only  scenes  of  industry  and 
fertility.     From  this  point,  up  to  the  frontiers 
of  Bohemia,  the  rocks  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  river,  principally  on  the  right  bank,  consist- 
ing of  a  coarse-grained  sandstone,  are  cut  in  all 
directions  into  frightful  gorges,  as  if  the  chisel 
had  been  used  to  hew  passages  through  them. 
They  should  rather  be  called  lanes,  so  narrow 
are  they,  so  deeply  sunk,  and  so  smoothly  per- 
pendicular do  the  gigantic  walls  of  rock  rise  on 
both  sides.     The  walls  themselves  are  cut  verti- 
cally into  separate  masses,  by  narrow  openings 
reaching  from  the  summit  to  the  very  bottom, 
as  if  a  cement,  which  once  united  them,  had 
been  washed  away.     These  perpendicular  mass- 
es, again,  are  divided  and  grooved  horizontally 
into  layers,  or  apparent  layers,  like  blocks  regu- 
larly laid  upon  each  other,  to  form  the  wall. 
The  extremities  are  seldom  sharp  or  angular, 
but  almost  always  rounded,  betraying  the  con- 


264  DRESDEN*. 

tinued  action  of  water.  They  generally  termi- 
nate in  some  singular  form.  Some  have  a  huge 
rounded  mass  reclining  on  their  summit,  which 
appears  scarcely  broad  enough  to  poise  it; 
others  have  a  more  regular  mass  laid  upon  them, 
like  the  astragal  of  a  Doric  pillar  ;  others  assume 
the  form  of  inverted  pyramids,  increasing  in 
breadth  as  they  shoot  higher  into  the  air.  Oc- 
casionally they  present  a  still  more  singular  ap- 
pearance ;  for,  after  tapering  in  a  conical  form, 
to  a  certain  elevation,  they  begin  to  dilate  again 
as  they  rise  higher,  as  if  an  inverted  truncated 
cone  were  placed  on  a  right  truncated  cone,  re- 
sembling exactly,  but  on  an  infinitely  greater 
scale,  what  often  occurs  in  caverns,  where  the 
descending  stalactite  rests  on  an  ascending  sta- 
lagmite. 

The  abyss,  which  lies  deep  sunk  behind  the 
summit  called  the  Bastey,  though  not  so  regular 
as  some  others,  is  the  most  wonderful  of  all,  in 
the  horrid  boldness  and  fantastic  forms  of  its 
rocks.  The  Ottazcalder  Grund  is  so  narrow, 
;and  its  walls  so  lofty,  that  many  parts  of  it  can 
never  have  felt  sunshine.  I  trode,  through  the 
greater  part  of  it,  on  snow  and  ice,  when  all 


THE  SAXON  SWITZERLAND.  265 

above  was  warm  and  cheery,  and  butterflies 
were  sporting  over  its  frozen  bosom.  Some 
small  cascades  were  literally  hanging  frozen  in 
their  fall.  In  one  place  the  walls  are  not  more 
than  four  feet  asunder.  Some  huge  blocks,  in 
their  course  from  the  summit,  have  been  jam- 
med in  between  them,  and  form  a  natural  roof, 
beneath  which  you  must  creep  along  above  the 
brook  on  planks,  if  the  brook  be  small,  or  wad- 
ing in  water,  if  it  be  swollen;  for  the  rivulet 
occupies  the  whole  space  between  the  walls  in 
this  narrow  passage,  which  goes  under  the  name 
of  "  Hell."  When,  in  one  of  these  lanes,  you 
find  an  alley  striking  off  on  one  side,  and,  hav- 
ing squeezed  your  body  through  it,  another  si- 
milar lane,  which  you  soon  find  crossed  by  ano- 
ther of  the  same  sort,  you  might  believe  your- 
self traversing  the  rude  model  of  some  gigantic 
city,  or  visiting  the  ruined  abodes  of  the  true  ter- 
rae  JUii.  *  When,  again,  from  some  elevated 


*  And  once  they  had  inhabitants.    Among  the  loftiest 
and  most  inaccessible  of  the  cliffs  which  overlook  the 
Elbe,  remains  of  the  works  of  human  hands  are  still  vi- 
sible.    A  band  of  robbers,  by  laying  blocks  across  the 
VOL.  I.  M 


266  DRESDEN. 

point,  you  overlook  the  whole  mass,  and  sec 
these  stiff  bare  rocks  rising  from  the  earth,  ma- 
nifesting, though  now  disjoined,  that  they  once 
formed  one  body,  you  might  think  yourself  gaz- 
ing on  the  skeleton  of  a  perished  world,  all  the 
softer  parts  of  which  have  mouldered  away,  and 
left  only  the  naked,  indestructible  frame-work. 

The  Bastey,  or  Bastion,  is  the  name  given  to 
one  of  the  largest  masses  which  rise  close  by  the 
river  on  the  right  bank.  One  narrow  block,  on 
the  very  summit,  projects  into  the  air.  Perch- 
ed on  this,  not  on,  but  beyond  the  brink  of 
the  precipice,  you  command  a  prospect  which, 
in  its  kind,  is  unique  in  Europe.  You  hover, 
on  the  pinnacle,  at  an  elevation  of  more  than 
eight  hundred  feet  above  the  Elbe,  which  sweeps 
round  the  bottom  of  the  precipice.  Behind, 
and  up  along  the  river  on  the  same  bank,  rise 
similar  precipitous  cliffs,  cut  and  intersected  like 
those  already  described.  From  the  farther  bank, 


chasms,  had  formed  bridges,  frail  in  structure,  and  easi- 
ly removed  when  security  required  it ;  and,  in  the  upper 
floors,  as  it  were,  of  this  natural  city,  long  set  regular 
power  at  defiance. 


THE  SAXON  SWITZERLAND.  267 

the  plain  gradually  elevates  itself  into  an  ir- 
regular amphitheatre,  terminated  by  a  lofty, 
but  rounded  range  of  mountains.  The  strik- 
ing feature  is,  that,  in  the  bosom  of  this  am- 
phitheatre, a  plain  of  the  most  varied  beauty, 
huge  columnar  hills  start  up  at  once  from  the 
ground,  at  great  distances  from  each  other, 
overlooking,  in  lonely  and  solemn  grandeur, 
each  its  own  portion  of  the  domain.  They  are 
monuments  which  the  Elbe  has  left  standing 
to  commemorate  his  triumph  over  their  less 
hardy  kindred.  The  most  remarkable  among 
them  are  the  Lillenstein  and  Jfonigstein,  which 
tower  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  picture,  to  a 
height  of  about  twelve  hundred  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  Elbe.  They  rise  perpendiculai'- 
ly  from  a  sloping  base,  formed  of  debris,  and 
now  covered  with  natural  wood.  The  access  to 
the  summit  is  so  difficult,  that  an  Elector  of 
Saxony  and  King  of  Poland  thought  the  exploit 
which  he  performed  in  scrambling  to  the  top  of 
the  Lilienstein  deserving  of  being  commemorat- 
ed by  an  inscription.  The  access  to  the  Konlg- 
fttein  is  artificial,  for  it  has  long  been  a  fortress, 
and,  from  the  strength  of  its  situation,  is  still  a 


DRESDEN. 

virgin  one.  Besides  these,  the  giants  of  the  ter- 
ritory, the  plain  is  studded  with  many  other 
columnar  eminences  of  the  same  general  charac- 
ter, though  on  a  smaller  scale,  and  they  all  bear, 
from  time  immemorial,  their  particular  legends  ; 
— for  the  mountains  of  Saxony  and  Bohemia  are 
the  native  country  of  tale-telling  tradition,  the 
cradle  of  Gnomes  and  Kobolds.  In  the  deep 
rents  and  gloomy  recesses  of  the  Lilienstcin, 
hosts  of  spirits  still  watch  over  concealed  trea- 
sures. A  holy  nun,  miraculously  transported 
from  the  irregularities  of  her  convent,  to  the 
summit  of  the  Nonnenstein,  that  she  might 
spend  her  days  in  prayer  and  purity  in  its  ca- 
verns, is  commemorated  in  the  name  of  the 
rock  ;  and  the  Jungfernsprung,  or  Leap  of  the 
Virgin,  perpetuates  the  memory  of  the  Saxon 
maid,  who,  when  pursued  by  a  brutal  lustling, 
threw  herself  from  the  brink  of  its  hideous  pre- 
cipice, to  die  unpolluted. 


269 


CHAPTER  V. 

DRESDEN. 

THE  ARTS LITERATURE — CRIMINAL  JUSTICE  — 

THE  GOVERNMENT. 

DRESDEN  has  the  advantage  of  being  lively 
and  entertaining  at  all  seasons  of  the  year,  though 
the  sort  of  persons  who  produce  and  enjoy  its 
pleasures  vary  most  sensibly  with  the  state  of  the 
thermometer.  The  winter  entertainments  of  the 
higher  ranks  are  just  what  they  are  elsewhere. 
Those  who  find  balls,  and  routs,  and  card-parties, 
dull  in  other  countries,  will  not  find  them  a  whit 
less  so  in  Saxony.  The  middle  and  lower  classes 
seek  their  pleasures  in  the  theatre  ;  for  no  rank 
in  Germany  reckons  play-going  a  sin.  The 
king  himself  is  so  extravagantly  fond  of  music, 
that,  besides  a  regular  troop  of  actors,  he  sup- 
ports two  operatic  companies,  one  Italian  and 


270  DRESDEN. 

the  other  German,  and  has  at  the  head  of  his 
chapel  Weber,  the  first  of  the  living  theatri- 
cal composers  of  Germany,  and  Morlacchi,  who- 
fills  a  very  respectable  rank  after  the  despotic 
Rossini.  Spring  comes  on,  and  the  native  heroes 
of  the  winter  disappear,  to  be  replaced  by  stran- 
gers. The  great  body  of  the  citizens  take  their 
turn  in  the  cycle  of  amusement,  and  take  it  out 
of  doors.  OH  the  first  of  May,  as  regularly  as 
the  year  comes  round,  the  royal  family  removes 
to  Pilnitz  ;  the  nobility  and  gentry,  all,  in  short, 
who  are  not  too  poor,  fly  to  their  country-seats, 
or  the  baths  of  Bohemia ;  the  superb  orangery  is 
brought  forth  from  its  winter  covering,  and  set 
to  blossom  round  the  Zwinger,  in  the  open  air ; 
the  picture-gallery  is  thrown  open ;  Bottiger 
commences  his  prelections  on  ancient  statues,  in 
the  collection  of  antiques ;  foreigners  crowd  into 
the  city  from  all  parts  of  Europe ;  and  Dresden, 
with  its  laughing  sky,  and  climate,  and  scenery, 
and  people,  becomes,  for  a  season,  the  coffee- 
house of  Germany. 

It  is  to  its  collection  of  pictures  that  Dresden 
is  principally  indebted  for  the  reputation  which 
it  enjoys  as  the  centre  of  the  arts  in  Ger- 


THE  GALLERY. 

many.  No  gallery  on  this  side  of  the  Alps, 
deserves,  a&  a  whole,  to  b<?  placed  above  it. 
Munich  is  probably  richer  in  the  choice  works 
of  Rembrandt,  and,  since  the  acquisition  of 
Niirnberg,  likewise  in  those  of  Durer ;  Brussels 
can  show  much  finer  pictures  of  Rubens ;  Pots- 
dam some  splendid  historical  pieces  of  Vandyke ; 
and  Paris,  among  the  straggling  glories  that  still 
remain  to  the  Louvre,  more  perfect  samples  of 
one  or  two  of  the  Italian  masters ;  but,  as  a  col- 
lection of  excellent  pictures,  in  all  styles,  and 
particularly  in  some  of  the  most  celebrated  of  the 
Italian  schools,  none  of  them  can  claim  superio- 
rity over  the  royal  gallery  of  Dresden.  The 
Flemish  and  German  schools  had  been  gradual- 
ly accumulating,  especially  under  the  magnifi- 
cence which  overwhelmed  Saxony  from  the  mo- 
ment her  electors  mounted  the  throne  of  Poland ; 
but  it  was  poor  in  the  works  of  the  Italian 
masters,  till  Augustus  III.  raised  it  at  once  to 
its  present  eminence,  by  purchasing,  for  about 
L.180,000,  (1,200,000  rixdollars,)  the  whole  du- 
cal gallery  of  Modena,  which  contained,  among 
others,  the  far-famed  Correggios.  A  good  speci- 
men of  Raphael  was  still  awanting,  and^  for  some- 


272  DRESDEN. 

thing  more,  it  is  said,  than  L.8000,  (17,000  du- 
cats,) a  convent  at  Piacenza  was  prevailed  on  to 
part  with  his  Madonna  di  San  Sisto,  which,  I 
suppose,  gold  could  not  now  purchase.  While 
lingering  among  these  great  productions  of  a 
roost  captivating  art,  it  is  likewise  a  pleasing 
feeling,  that  they  have  had  the  rare  fortune  to  be 
treated  with  reverence  by  every  hostile  hand. 
Frederick  bombarded  Dresden,  battered  down 
its  churches,  and  laid  its  streets  in  ruin,  but  or- 
dered his  cannon  and  mortars  to  keep  clear  of 
the  picture  gallery.  He  entered  as  a  conqueror, 
levied  the  taxes,  administered  the  government, 
and,  with  an  affectation  of  humility,  asked  per, 
mission  of  the  captive  Electress  to  visit  the  gal- 

A  O 

lery  as  a  stranger.  Napoleon's  policy,  too,  led 
him  to  treat  Saxony  with  much  consideration, 
and  was  the  guardian  angel  of  her  pictures.  Not 
one  of  them  made  the  journey  to  Paris. 

The  Outer  Gallery,  *  as  it  is  called,  is  entire- 


*  The  arrangement  of  the  building  is  somewhat  pecu- 
liar ;  it  is  one  square  within  another,  as  if  formed  by  di- 
viding a  very  broad  gallery  running  round  a  square,  by 
building  within  it  a  partition  parallel  to  the  sides  of  the 


THE  GALLERY.  273 

ly  filled  with  the  productions  of  the  northern 
schools,  and  displays,  in  an  immense  number  of 
pictures,  all  the  merits  and  deficiencies  of  the 
masters  of  Germany,  Flanders,  and  Holland. 
The  principle  of  these  schools  was,  not  to  em- 
bellish nature,  but  to  imitate  her  with  almost  li- 
teral precision.  Animals,  and  objects  of  still  life ; 
the  ingenious  effects  of  artificial,  or  the  chequered 
play  of  natural  lights  and  shades ;  busy  figures, 
surrounded  by  household  goods,  or  the  imple- 
ments of  a  profession ;  the  grotesque  groupes, 
and  gross  dissipations  of  a  fair ;  the  hard-fa- 
voured, but  expressive  countenances,  the  ale- 
jugs,  and  low  indelicacies  of  carousing  boors, 

square.  The  lights  of  the  outer  are  from  the  street, 
those  of  the  inner  from  the  court  which  the  square  con- 
tains. The  inner  gallery  is  set  apart  for  the  Italian,  and  the 
outer  is  filled  with  the  ultramontane  schools,  using  ul- 
tramontane in  the  Italian  sense  of  the  term.  As  the  lights 
come  from  only  one  side,  care  has  been  taken  to  place  all 
the  good  pictures  on  the  opposite  side ; — apparently  a  very 
obvious  arrangement,  yet  one,  the  neglect  of  which,  in 
many  private  collections,  spoils  many  excellent  pictures. 
The  best  of  all  lights  is  that  which  comes  frora  above,  as 
partly  in  the  Tribune  of  Florence,  and  entirely  in  the 
upper  room  at  Bologna. 

M2 


274  DRESDEN. 

were  transferred  to  the  canvas  with  an  accuracy 
of  imitation,  and  patience  of  finishing,  which 
have  never  been  rivalled.  Such  subjects  scarce- 
ly admitted  of  embellishment ;  what  existed  be- 
fore the  painter's  eyes  must  be  copied  "  severely 
true ;"  no  beau  ideal  sprung  into  life  beneath  the 
pencil  of  the  artist,  creating  upon  the  canvas 
forms  which  perhaps  never  existed  in  nature, 
but  which,  nevertheless,  are  at  once  recognised 
to  be  the  perfection  of  nature.  It  would  be  ab- 
surd to  suppose  that  all  the  boors  of  Teniers  are 
portraits,  and  all  his  cottage  or  wedding  scenes 
taken  from  the  life  ;  so  far  he  must  have  pro- 
ceeded on  the  same  principle  as  if  he  had  been 
composing  a  Madonna,  and  made  his  boors  and 
weddings  what  they  possibly  never  were,  but  yet 
easily  might  be ;  but  forms  of  ideal  beauty  or  dig- 
nity, and  the  expression  of  the  higher  passions, 
were  not  regularly  within  the  sphere,  and  never 
constituted  the  character  of  the  school.  Even 
those  masters  who  sought  immortality  in  another 
path,  Rubens,  for  example,  or  Rembrandt,  sel- 
dom approach  this  lofty  and  captivating  ideal. 
They  compose  their  pictures  with  skill,  they  se- 
duce the  eye  by  peculiar  charms  of  colouring,  and 


THE  GALLERY.  275 

they  may  be  unrivalled  in  the  artificial  manage- 
ment of  light  and  shade  ;  yet  is  the  effect  pro- 
duced by  their  most  finished  pictures  not  only 
specifically  different  from  what  we  feel  when 
contemplating  the  Madonna  of  Raphael,  the  Sa- 
viour or  St  Jerome  of  Correggio,  Fra  Bartolo- 
meo's  StMark,  Guido's  Aurora,  or  Titian's  As- 
sumption of  the  Virgin,  but  is  it  not  one  of  a 
more  prosaic  nature,  less  imposing  to  the  ima- 
gination, less  elevating  and  interesting  both  to 
feeling  and  to  taste  ? 

The  pictures  of  Teniers,  Ostade,  and  Gerard 
Dow,  the  northern  landscapes  of  Ruisdael,  the 
vivid  groupes  of  Wouvermann,  with  his  never- 
failing  grey  horse,  are  all  among  the  most  suc- 
cessful and  characteristic  productions  of  these  ce- 
lebrated masters.  In  Ruisdael's  famous  Hunt, 
earth  and  sky,  wood  and  water,  speak  so  feeling- 
ly the  cold,  drizzling  haze  of  a  raw  autumnal 
morning  in  a  northern  region,  that  the  spectator 
is  happy,  on  turning  from  the  picture,  to  find  him- 
self in  sunshine.  Dow  and  Ostade  could  not  com- 
pete with  Teniers  in  effect  of  grouping  and  ex- 
pression of  vulgar  character,  but  they  are  at  least 
his  equals  in  minuteness  of  finishing,  and  surpass 


276  DRESDEN. 

him  in  delicacy  and  vivacity  of  colouring.  There 
is  a  beautiful  small  picture  by  Gerard  Dow,  re- 
presenting a  hermit  at  prayer  before  a  crucifix, 
at  the  door  of  his  hut.     A  book  lies  open  before 
him,  and  so  industriously  is  every  part  finished, 
that  you  actually  see   the  letters  glimmering 
through  the  paper  from  the  opposite  page.   The 
most  wonderful  instance  of  this  finishing  and  co- 
louring, because  it  contains  the  most  minute  and 
heterogeneous  objects,  is  an  alchymist's  work- 
shop of  Teniers.     Tables,  stools,  chairs,  fur- 
naces, alembics  of  various  sorts,  dead  and  dried 
fishes,  stuffed  beasts,  living  mice,  boxes  of  wood 
and  paper,  vials  of  white,  and  bottles  of  green 
glass ;  in  short,  all  kinds  of  lumber,  and  uten- 
sils, and  instruments,  are  scattered  about  in  the 
most  grotesque  confusion,  and  every  single  ob- 
ject is  in  form  and  colouring  the  most  deceiving 
imitation  of  nature  imaginable.   His  Temptation 
of  St  Anthony,  though  possessing  much  of  the 
same  excellence,  is  not  equal  to  those  of  Hell 
Breughel ;  *  the  monsters  are  of  the  same  kind, 


*  There  were  two  brothers  of  this  name,  Hell  Breughel, 
so  called  from  the  delight  he  took  in  painting  hell  and 


THE  GALLERY.  277 

but  it  wants  the  fantastic  richness  of  Breughel, 
all  the  merit,  in  point  of  composition,  which 
such  a  picture  can  possess ;  yet  Teniers  repeat- 
ed the  subject  in  another  picture  at  Potsdam, 
where  he  has  introduced  his  wife  and  his  mother- 
in-law  as  devils.  With  the  old  lady  he  kept  no 
measures,  but  satyrized  his  help-mate  only  by 
allowing  the  tip  of  a  tail  to  peep  out  from  be- 
neath the  sweeping  train  of  her  gown.  Van- 
dyke's portraits  of  Charles  I.,  of  his  Queen  Hen- 
rietta, and  their  children,  especially  the  last,  are 
splendid  pictures. 

There  is  no  very  good  picture  of  Rembrandt 
or  Rubens.  The  Judgment  of  Paris,  by  the 
latter,  is  inferior  to  a  hundred  of  his  works  even 
in  colouring,  and  is  perhaps  the  very  worst  of 
them  all  in  regard  to  the  forms ;  at  least,  if  there 
be  others  in  which  the  forms  are  absolutely  as 
gross  and  clumsy  as  they  are  here,  the  Magda- 

witch  scenes,  which  in  general  display  a  grotesque  rich- 
ness of  fancy,  quite  at  home  in  such  pictures ;  and  Velvet 
Breughel,  who  derived  his  name  from  the  smoothness  and 
softness  of  his  colouring.  Their  father,  too,  had  a  nick- 
name, Peter  the  Droll,  for  he  dealt  largely  in  the  very 
broadest  comic  which  even  the  Dutch  school  allowed. 


DRESDEN. 

lene  at  Hanover,  for  example,  yet  the  deficiency 
strikes  us  in  this  picture  with  greater  force,  be- 
cause it  is  a  subject  from  which  we  expect  the 
most  perfect  forms  of  beauty  in  both  sexes. 
Paris,  a  heavy,  awkward,  hard-featured,  plough- 
man-looking fellow,  is  seated  beneath  a  tree,  nak- 
ed, indeed,  but  covered  with  an  enormous  broad- 
brimmed  hat.  He  is  thus  a  fitting  judge  and 
companion  for  the  three  blowsy,  fat,  flabby 
wenches,  under  whom  the  painter  lias,  it  might 
be  imagined,  caricatured  the  three  goddesses. 
It  is  no  wonder  that  Paris  looks  puzzled  ;  it 
would  require  a  wiser  man  to  decide  which  of 
the  three  is  the  least  ugly.  It  is  extremely 
possible  that  many  of  the  trivial  pictures  which 
bear  the  name  of  this  great  artist  were  never 
touched  by  his  pencil ;  but,  among  his  undoubt- 
ed works,  there  is  enough  of  the  same  deficiency 
to  convince  us,  that  he  shared  deeply  the  general 
character  of  the  northern  schools,  a  felicitous 
imitation  of  nature  without  ennobling  her.  It 
was  long  before  he  acquired  an  accuracy  in 
drawing  equal  to  the  captivating  colouring  of 
which  he  was  master  so  early.  One  can  scarce- 
ly believe  the  Deposition  from  the  Cross  at  Ant- 


THE  GALLERY.  279 

werp,  the  Crucifixion  of  St  Peter  at  Cologne,  or 
the  Ascension  of  the  Virgin,  (inferior  only  to  Ti- 
tian's,) in  the  gallery  at  Brussels,  to  have  pro- 
ceeded from  the  same  pencil  which  produced  so 
many  masses  of  flesh,  flesh,  indeed,  painted  to  the 
life,  but  in  forms  more  gross  and  shapeless  than 
even  the  nymphs  of  Flemish  boors  ever  were. 

Taste  is  so  very  flexible  a  thing,  that  you  may 
almost  foretell  whether  an  ordinary  spectator's 
inclination  will  lean  to  the  painters  of  the  south 
or  of  the  north,  according  as  the  one  or  the  other 
have  first  taught  him  to  feel  and  admire  the 
power  of  the  art.     Whoever  has  the  treasures  of 
the  German  and  Flemish  masters  opened  up  to 
him,  only  after'coming  fresh  from  revelling  in  the 
galleries  of  Italy,  to  whose  beauties  memory  still 
returns  with  the  fondness  of  a  first  love,  is  sure 
to  be  unjust  to  the  former.     In  no  other  way 
could  I  account  for  the  superior  attractions  of 
the  inner  gallery  of  Dresden,  which  contains  the 
Italian  schools,  although  it  can  safely  rest  on  its 
own  absolute  merits,  for  there  are  pictures  which 
Jew  and  Gentile  must  be  equally  loth  to  quit. 
Raphael's  Madonna  di  San  Sisto  "  shines  ini- 
mitable on  earth  ;"  if  any  picture  deserves  to  be 


280  DRESDEN. 

placed  by  its  side,  it  must  be  Itis  own  Transfi- 
guration, or  Titian's  Assumption  of  the  Virgin 
in  the  Academy  of  Venice.     The  composition  of 
this  wonderful  picture  is  simple  in  the  extreme. 
The  Virgin  hovers  on  a  cloud,  in  an  upright  at- 
titude, with  the  holy  infant  in  her  arms.      The 
Pope  St  Sixtus,  from  whom  the  picture  has  its 
name,  arrayed  in  his  sacerdotal  robes,  kneels 
upon  her  right.     He  looks  up  to  the  Virgin  in 
trembling  devotion ;  every  feature  breathes  pious 
wonder  and  self-humiliation ;  his  clasped  hands 
and  withered  countenance  seem  ready  to  sink  be- 
neath the  burden  of  religious  awe.     St  Barbara 
kneels  on  the  left;  but  her  youthful  and  beauti- 
ful countenance  is  lighted  up  with  a  mild  re- 
strained joy,  and  is  bent  towards  the  earth,  as  if 
turning  away  from  the  glory  that  shines  round 
the  Madonna.     In  the  bottom  of  the  picture  are 
seen  the  heads  and  breasts  of  two  cherubs,  the 
best,  in  their  kind,  which  the  art  has  produced. 
One  of  them  has  his  little  arms  folded ;  the  other 
is  resting  his  head  on  one  hand.      Nature  never 
created,  nor  could  a  poet's  fancy  imagine,  more 
touching  forms  of  infantine  innocence  and  beau- 
ty, joined,  at  the  same  time,  to  a  tinge  of  seri- 


THE  GALLERY. 

ousness  and  awe  which  gives  them  a  peculiar 
character,  without  being  at  all  unnatural,  and 
falls  in  delightfully  with  the  whole  style  of 
the  picture.  We  feel  instantly  that  these  are 
children,  indeed,  but  children  of  a  higher  order, 
and  employed  in  a  holy  service.  The  Madon- 
na herself,  all  simplicity  and  serenity,  free  from 
every  taint  of  exaggerated  rapture  or  affected 
attitude,  floats  between  the  heaven  and  earth 
that  are  mingled  in  her  countenance,  clasping 
her  infant  to  her  bosom  with  the  fondness  of  a 
mother,  and,  at  the  same  time,  with  the  dignity 
of  a  superior  being. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  analyze  the  impres- 
sion which  the  whole  composition  produces ;  in 
fact,  a  picture  or  a  statue  which  can  be  com- 
pletely copied  in  language  is  seldom  worth  seeing. 
If  Bacon  was  right  in  saying  that  the  better  part 
of  beauty  cannot  be  painted,  it  is  still  truer  that 
the  better  part  of  painted  beauty  cannot  be  given 
in  words.  Besides  the  beauty  of  the  forms,  and  the 
vivid  and  highly  diversified  expression  of  coun- 
tenance, its  great  enchantment  seems  to  lie  in 
the  prevailing  tone  of  mild  character,  in  the  hea- 
venly tranquillity  that  is  spread  over  the  whole 


282  DRESDEN. 

composition.  One  always  returns  with  longing 
from  the  other  famed  works  of  the  gallery,  to 
rest  on  the  simple  beauty  of  these  matchless 
forms;  and  I  almost  think  it  impossible  to 
gaze  on  this  picture  without  becoming,  for  the 
time,  a  better  man.  Like  the  harp  of  David,  it 
puts  every  evil  spirit  to  flight. 

After  this  Madonna  are  always  ranked  the 
five  great  pictures  of  Correggio,  which  formerly 
adorned  the  gallery  of  Modena,  and  the  first 
place  among  them  is  universally  assigned  to  the 
Night.  It  represents  the  holy  family  at  night, 
illuminated  only  by  the  glory  which  surrounds 
the  infant,  and  hence  its  name.  The  mother 
and  child  occupy  the  centre  of  the  picture,  so 
that  the  light  diffuses  itself  in  all  directions  upon 
the  other  figures,  producing  an  extremely  vivid 
effect,  and  giving  the  personages  an  incredible 
degree  of  relief,  by  the  strong  masses  of  shade 
against  which  it  is  set  off.  Only  the  face  and 
bosom  of  the  mother  are  illuminated,  as  she 
bends  over  the  infant  on  her  lap.  Three  herds 
form  the  other  groupe.  One  of  them,  a  girl, 
starts  back  in  childish  astonishment  from  the 
supernatural  light ;  a  coarse  herdsman,  who  con-* 


THE  GALLEBY.  283 

trasts  admirably  with  the  elegant  form  of  the 
virgin  herself,  looks  in  with  an  almost  savage 
wonder ;  the  third  has  his  eyes  directed  to  hea- 
ven, with  a  more  pleasing  expression  of  admira- 
tion and  devotion.  In  the  back  ground,  Joseph 
fodders  the  ass ;  and,  through  an  opening  in 
the  wooded  landscape,  the  morning  is  seen  to 
dawn  over  the  distant  country,  giving  the  pic- 
ture the  force  of  a  religious  allegory.  Artists 
would  probably  have  some  fault  to  find  with 
every  individual  figure  in  the  composition  ;  but 
the  variety  of  form,  and  countenance,  and  cha- 
racter, all  differently  lighted  up,  according  to 
the  position  in  which  the  personages  stand  to  the 
infant,  work  together  to  form  an  admirable  whole. 
In  fact,  the  picture  has  often  been  set  down  as 
Correggio"s  masterpiece  ;  and  certainly,  in  so  far 
as  the  effect  produced  by  the  artificial  manage- 
ment of  the  light  is  concerned,  he  has  painted 
nothing  great  in  the  same  kind,  and  no  other 
master  has  painted  any  thing  equally  great.  Yet 
it  is  doubtful  whether,  in  the  more  poetical  me- 
rits of  the  art,  there  are  not  better  pictures  of 
Correggio  in  Parma.  The  Madonna  di  San  Gi- 
rolamo  makes,  an  impression,  not  so  vivid  at  first, 


284  DRESDEN. 

but  much  more  lasting.*  The  three  other  great 
paintings,  the  St  George,  the  St  Francis,  and  the 
St  Sebastian,  all  represent  similar  groupes,— -the 
virgin  and  child  surrounded  by  various  saints, 
but  all  in  natural  lights.  St  John,  in  the  second 
of  these,  looking  out  from  the  picture  towards 
the  spectator,  and  pointing  to  the  young  Redeem- 
er, is  one  of  the  most  animated  and  eloquent  of 
all  Correggio's  figures.  The  little  picture,  the 
Magdalene  reclining  on  the  ground,  wrapt  up  in 
a  blue  mantle,  and  reading  a  book,  is  a  most 
simple  painting,  but  inimitable  from  its  very 
simplicity,  its  pure  beauty  of  form,  and  fulness 
of  expression.  It  derived  a  greater  merit,  in  the 
eyes  of  a  certain  mason,  from  the  gems  with 
which  the  frame  was  thickly  set ;  he  broke  into 
the  gallery  one  night,  and  stole  the  picture. 

Perhaps  it  is  unfortunate  for  the  effect  of  these 
pictures  of  Correggio,  that  they  are  so  much 
alike,  and  all  together.  They  form,  indeed,  a 
series,  exemplifying  the  style  of  the  painter  in 


*  They  have  a  story  in  Parma,  that  when  Augustus 
himself  saw  the  Madonna  cli  San  Girolamo,  he  exclaimed, 
f<  Why  was  not  Parma  in  Modena !" 


THE  GALLERY.  285 

the  different  stages  of  its  improvement,  and  this 
is  repeated  to  you  again  and  again  as  the  great 
recommendation  of  the  collection :  "  We  have  a 
sample  of  Correggio  in  all  his  styles.""  But  those 
gradations,  which  may  be  extremely  discernible 
and  interesting  to  the  artist  and  connoisseur, 
are  lost  on  the  ordinary  spectator,  who  only  asks 
of  a  picture  that  it  shall  speak  to  him,  and  make 
him  feel.  If  the  beauty  of  the  first  of  them 
which  falls  under  the  eye  be  properly  appre- 
tiated,  the  effect  of  the  others  is  diminished ;  for 
the  subjects,  the  grouping,  and  the  general  spi- 
rit, are  very  similar  in  all  of  them,  and  the  va- 
rieties in  the  style  of  colouring  are  not  very 
striking.  The  gradations  in  the  style  of  Cor- 
reggio are  not  at  all  like  those  of  Raphael,  one 
of  whose  pictures,  painted  by  him  while  he  was 
under  Perrugino,  could  not  easily  be  recognized 
as  a  work  of  the  same  master  who  produced  the 
Transfiguration  ;  they  are  even  much  less  mark- 
ed than  those  of  Guido.  Moreover,  all  these 
pictures,  with  the  exception  of  the  Magdalene, 
represent  subjects  in  which  Correggio  has  less 
variety  than  in  others.  In  the  Madonna,  more 
than  in  any  other  figure,  the  great  painters  are 


286  DBESDfcX. 

easily  discovered ;  for,  with  all  of  them,  she  is 
more  or  less  purely  ideal,  and  the  ideal  of  a 
painter  of  original  genius  does  not  readily  change. 
No  one,  I  believe,  accustomed  to  the  galleries  of 
Rome,  and  Florence,  and  Bologna,  ever  found 
much  difficulty  in  recognizing  a  Madonna  of 
Raphael,  or  tJuido,  or  Da  Vinci.     Correggio  is 
more  a  copier  of  himself  in  the  Mother  of  God 
than  any  other  artist  of  equal  name.    With  his 
Madonnas  in  your  memory,  look  at  his  portrait 
of  his  mistress  in  Potsdam,  and  you  see  at  once 
that  all  the  former  have  been  created  by  enno- 
bling the  latter.    Raphael  occasionally  made  use 
of  his  Fornarina  to  lend  a  feature  for  the  maiden- 
mother,  but  Correggio  never  forsakes  his  beloved; 
in  all  his  Virgins  of  celebrity  she  is  distinctly  re- 
cognizable ;  it  is  only  in  the  Magdalene  that  no 
trace  of  her  is  to  be  found.     It  would  be  woeful 
stupidity  to  say  that  Dresden  has  too  much  of 
Correggio;  that  is  impossible;  but  perhaps  it  has 
too  much  of  the  same  subjects ;  and  this,  I  doubt 
not,  is  one  reason  why   spectators,   not  artists 
themselves,  are  thrown  into  much  less  lively  rap- 
tures by  these  pictures  than  they  had  been  led 
to  expect.     To  my  own  feelings,  the  Madonna 


THE  GALLEBY.  287 

tli  San  Sisto  stands  at  an  immeasurable  distance 
above  any  of  them. 

Julio  Romanovs  Pan  and  Satyr  is  another  pic- 
ture to  make  one  wish  he  had  kept  to  his  fres- 
coes, where  he  never  failed  to  be  among  the 
foremost.  Raphael  never  forgot,  in  his  frescoes, 
the  grace  and  elegance  of  his  oil  painting ;  the 
scholar,  on  the  other  hand,  gave  himself  entirely 
up  to  the  boldness,  and  even  harshness,  so  na- 
turally produced  by  fresco  painting,  and  trans- 
ferred the  same  style  to  canvas,  where  it  is  much 
less  in  its  place.  Hence,  in  so  many  of  his  oil- 
paintings,  there  is  a  roughness  of  execution  and 
colouring,  and  a  want  of  accurate  and  finished 
outline,  which  are  not  always  redeemed  by  the 
boldness  of  his  attitudes  and  the  strength  of  his 
shades.  A  Holy  Family,  though  of  somewhat 
outre  composition,  representing  the  infant  stand- 
ing in  a  basin  of  water,  to  be  washed  by-  his  mo- 
ther, while  St  Anne  holds  a  towel  to  dry  him,  is 
a  better  picture ;  but  still  there  are  hands  and 
feet  which  would  have  been  allowable  only  in 
the  War  of  the  Giants,  and  which  Julio's  mas- 
ter would  not  have  admitted  even  in  a  fresco. 
There  is  a  copy  of  the  St  Cecilia  ascribed  to 


DRESDEN. 

him ;  the  copy  is  masterly,  but  the  tradition  i> 
uncertain ;  nor  is  it  easy  to  believe  that  a  painter 
so  celebrated  and  so  occupied  as  an  original  ar- 
tist as  Julio  Romano  was,  can  have  spent  his  time 
on  the  innumerable  copies  which  are  every  where 
current  in  his  name. 

The  picture  which  represents  a  martyr  with 
the  fire  kindling  at  his  feet,  and  is  ascribed  to  Mi- 
chel Angelo,  is  just  such  a  figure  as  he  would 
have  painted,  and  probably  its  very  prototype 
may  be  found  in  the  Vatican ;  but  it  is  in  oil,  a  cir- 
cumstance always  injurious  to  the  authenticity  of 
any  picture  pretending  to  be  from  the  pencil  of 
an  artist  who  used  it  so  very  seldom  in  oil-paint- 
ing, which  he  declared  to  be  fit  only  for  women 
and  lazy  men.  The  gallery  is  weak  in  the  Ve- 
netian, and  Bolognese,  and  Florentine  schools, 
though  there  is  one  of  those  voluptuous  beauties 
of  Titian,  commonly  called  Venuses,  and  a  very 
beautiful  half  figure  of  St  Cecilia  by  Carlo  Dolce, 
a  favourite  subject  of  copying  among  the  female 
amateurs.  Of  Da  Vinci,  the  great  father  of  the 
Lombard  school,  there  is  only  a  portrait  of  Sfor- 
za,  the  celebrated  usurper  of  Milan,  who  was  too 
fortunate  in  having  Leonardo  to  paint  him,  and 


THE  GALLERV.  289 

Guicciardini  to  write  his  history :  it  is  a  portrait 
that  belongs  to  the  very  first  class  in  every  re- 
spect. 

The  crowds  of  copyists  which  fill  the  gallery 
during  the  summer  months,  show  that  the  pos- 
session of  this  rich  collection  has  not  been  alto- 
gether favourable  to  the  growth  of  original  ge- 
nius. A  sure  and  lucrative  employment  is 
found  in  making  miniature  copies ;  originality  of 
style  and  composition  dies  out ;  or,  when  the 
painter  ventures  to  work  after  his  own  taste  and 
imagination,  he  unconsciously  degenerates  into 
mannerism.  Dietrich  was  a  skilful  landscape 
painter,  but  possessed  a  dangerous  facility  of 
pencil.  Mengs,  the  first  of  modern  German  art- 
ists, though  by  birth  a  Bohemian,  is  more  pro- 
perly to  be  given  to  Italy,  where  he  spent 
his  life.  Within  these  few  years,  Kiigelchen 
gained  a  great  name.  His  pictures  are  distin- 
guished by  great  elegance  of  forms,  with  much 
softness  and  tenderness,  a  sort  of  fairy  lightness, 
in  the  colouring.  A  murderer  cut  him  off  too 
early.  Dresden  still  contains  many  painters, 
and  a  love  of  the  art  is  widely  diffused ;  but 
the  painters  are  copyists,  and  the  love  of  the 

VOL.   I.  N 


290  DRESDEN'. 

art  is  dilettanteisni.  During  summer  and  au- 
tumn, the  gallery  is  filled  with  professional  and 
amateur  artists,  copying  the  celebrated  pictures, 
or  individual  groupes  or  figures  from  them,  for 
money  or  amusement.  Many  of  them,  espe- 
cially of  the  mere  amateurs,  are  ladies,  and  here 
the  pride  of  rank  which,  in  every  thing  else 
in  Germany,  is  so  unyielding,  gives  way.  The- 
countess  pursues  her  task  by  the  side  of  her 
more  humble  companion,  who  is  copying  for 
her  daily  bread,  under  the  gaze  of  every  strol- 
ling stranger.  It  is  nothing  uncommon  to  find 
ladies  repairing  to  Dresden  from  distant  capitals, 
to  spend  part  of  the  summer  in  copying  pic- 
tures. 

One  of  the  most  complete  collections  of  cop- 
perplates in  Europe,  containing  every  thing  that 
is  interesting  in  the  history  of  the  art,  or  val- 
uable for  practical  excellence,  forms  a  supple- 
ment to  the  pictures.  The  earliest  is  of  1466, 
and  is  said  to  be  the  earliest  yet  known.  What 
a  leap  the  art  takes  at  once  from  the  uncouth 
forms  of  Schongauer  and  Mechlin,  to  the  drawing 
and  finishing  of  Diirer  !  It  is  amusing  to  ob- 
serve the  minutiae  by  which  the  connoisseur  dis- 


ENGRAVINGS. 

tinguishes  an  original  plate  from  the  copies, 
often  excellent,  which  have  been  made  of  most 
celebrated  engravings.  In  a  portrait,  the  graver 
had  slipped  at  a  letter  in  the  word  Effigies,  so 
that  this  letter  is  accompanied,  in  the  original, 
by  a  slight  scratch,  more  difficult  to  be  observed 
than  the  fragment  of  a  hair.  The  copyist  ei- 
ther had  not  observed  the  defect,  or  thought 
proper  to  correct  it ;  and  the  absence  of  this 
blemish  is  the  only  test  by  which  the  copy 
can  be  distinguished  from  the  original.  In  an 
early  work  of  Dtirer,  which  contains  a  town, 
the  omission  of  a  small  chimney,  which  is  not 
more  than  a  point,  and,  in  another,  a  still  slighter 
variation  in  the  ornaments  of  a  helmet,  alone  de- 
tect the  copy.  Money  is  liberally  spent  in  car- 
rying on  the  series  in  the  works  of  the  modern 
masters  of  all  countries.  Whoever  wishes  to 
study  the  history  of  this  beautiful  art,  and  be 
initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  connolsseurship, 
can  find  no  better  school  than  the  cabinet  of 
Dresden.  It  overflows  with  materials,  and  .is 
under  the  direction  of  a  gentleman,  who  not 
only  seems  to  be  thoroughly  master  of  his  occu- 
pation, but  has  the  much  rarer  merit  of  being 


292  DRESDEN. 

in  the  highest  degree  patient,    attentive,    and 
communicative. 

The  Saxons,  to  complete  their  school  of  arts, 
have  procured  a  quantity  of  ancient  sculptures, 
purchased  and  begged  from  different  quarters 
of  Italy,  and  casts  in  gypsum  of  the  great  works 
which  could  neither  be  bought  nor  begged. 
The  latter  are  from  the  hand  of  Mengs  himself, 
and,  besides  perfect  accuracy,  many  parts  of  the 
figure,  such  as  the  hair,  are  finished  with  a 
much  higher  degree  of  industry  and  precision 
than  is  usually  found  in  this  department  of 
the  plastic  art.  Both  collections  are  under  the 
direction  of  Bottiger,  than  whom  Germany  re- 
cognizes no  greater  name  in  every  thing  con- 
nected with  ancient  art  and  classical  antiqui- 
ties. With,  perhaps,  less  taste  in  the  arts  them- 
selves, he  is  allowed  to  be  master  of  much 
more  extensive  and  profound  erudition  concern- 
ing them  than  Winckelman,  in  whom  his  Con- 
tributions to  the  History  of  Ancient  Painting, 
corrected  many  errors,  and  supplied  many  defi- 
ciencies. This  erudition,  which  Heyne  and 
Wolff  in  vain  urged  him  to  lay  out  in  some 
great  work,  instead  of  squandering  it,  by  fits  and 


THE  GREEN  VAULT. 

starts,  among  a  hundred  different  subjects  in 
tracts  and  reviews,  is  quite  in  its  place  in  his 
lectures,  or  even  in  the  Abendzeitung,  the  po- 
lite journal  of  Dresden,  which  is  often  made  the 
vehicle  of  his  lucubrations ;  but  it  is  formidable 
to  a  listener  in  ordinary  conversation.  When 
Bottiger  bends  his  head,  and  half  shuts  his  eyes, 
the  hearer  may  reckon  on  encountering  a  flood- 
tide  of  erudition  and  superlatives,  which,  how- 
ever, the  kindliness  and  simplicity  of  the  old 
man  render  perfectly  tolerable. 

It  would  be  unpardonable  to  pass  over  in  si- 
lence the  treasures  of  the  Griine  Gewdlbe,  or 
Green  Vault,  of  which  every  Saxon  is  so  proud ; 
and  whoever  takes  pleasure  in  the  glitter  of 
precious  stones,  in  gold  and  silver  wrought,  not 
merely  into  all  sorts  of  royal  ornaments,  but  in- 
to every  form,  however  grotesque,  that  art  can 
give  them,  without  any  aim  at  either  utility  or 
beauty,  will  stroll  with  satisfaction  through  the 
apartments  of  this  gorgeous  toy-shop.  They  are 
crowded  with  the  crowns,  and  jewels,  and  regal  at- 
tire of  a  long  line  of  Saxon  princes ;  vases  and 
other  utensils  seem  to  have  been  made  merely  as  a 
means  of  expending  gold  and  silver  ;  the  shelves 


294  DRESDEN. 

glitter  with  caricatured  urchins,  whose  body  is 
often  formed  of  a  huge  pear],  or  an  egg-shell, 
the  limbs  being  added  in  enamelled  gold.  The 
innumerable  carvings  in  ivory  are  more  interest- 
ing, as  memorials  of  a  difficult  art,  which  was 
once  so  highly  esteemed  in  Germany,  and  of  the 
minute  labour  with  which  German  artists  could 
mould  the  most  reluctant  materials  into  difficult 
forms.  One  is  dazzled  by  the  quantity  of  gems 
and  precious  metals  that  glare  around  him ;  he 
must  even  admire  the  ingenuity  which  hae  fa- 
shioned them  into  so  many  ornaments  and  un- 
meaning nick-nacks ;  but  there  is  nothing  he  for- 
gets more  easily,  or  that  deserves  less  to  be  re- 
membered. 

The  RusfkammerY  too,  is  not  merely  a  mu- 
seum with  a  few  specimens  of  what  sort  of  things 
spears  and  coats  of  mail  were,  but  is  just  what 
a  well-stored  armoury  must  have  been  in  the 
days  of  yore.  Were  Europe  thrown  back,  by 
the  word  of  an  enchanter,  into  the  middle  ages, 
Saxony  could  take  the  field,  with  a  duly  equip- 
ped army,  sooner  than  any  other  power.  We 
cannot  easily  form  any  idea  of  the  long  practice 
which  must  have  been  necessary  to  enable  a  man 


THE  ARMOUKY.  295 

to  wear  such  habiliments  with  comfort,  much 
more  to  wield,  at  the  same  time,  such  arms  with 
agility  and  dexterity.  But  the  young  officers 
of  those  days  wore  armour  almost  as  soon  as 
they  could  walk,  and  transmigrated  regularly 
from  one  iron  shell  into  another,  more  unwieldy 
than  its  predecessor,  till  they  reached  the  full 
stature  of  knighthood,  and  played  at  broad- 
sword with  the  weight  of  a  twelve  pounder 
on  their  backs,  as  lightly  as  a  lady  bears  a  chap- 
let  of  silken  flowers  on  her  head  in  a  quadrille. 
There  is  here  a  complete  series  of  the  suits  set 
apart  for  the  princes  of  Saxony;  the  smallest 
seemed  to  be  for  a  boy  of  ten  or  twelve  years 
old.  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  man  who 
could  promenade  in  the  cuirass  of  Augustus  II., 
which  you  can  hardly  raise  from  the  ground,  or. 
sport  his  cap,  which  incloses  an  iron  hat  heavier 
than  a  tea-kettle  ;  but  Augustus,  if  you  believe 
the  Saxons,  was  a  second  Sampson.  They  have 
m  their  mouths  innumerable  histories  of  his 
bodily  prowess;  such  as,  that  he  lifted  a  trumpet- 
er in  full  armour,  and  held  him  aloft  on  the 
palm  of  his  hand  ;  that  he  twisted  the  iron  ban- 
nister of  a  stair  into  a  rope,  and  made  love  to  a 


296  DRESDEN. 

coy  beauty  by  presenting  in  one  hand  a  bag  of 
gold,  and  breaking,  with  the  other,  a  horse-shoe. 

Among  the  reliques  is  the  first  instrument 
with  which  Schwarz  tried  his  newly  invented 
gunpowder.  The  fire  is  produced  by  friction. 
A  small  bar  of  iron,  placed  parallel  to  the  barrel, 
is  moved  rapidly  forwards  and  backwards  by 
the  hand ;  above  it  is  a  flint,  whose  edge  is 
pressed  firmly  against  the  upper  surface  of  the 
bar  by  a  spring ;  the  friction  of  the  flint  against 
the  bar  strikes  out  the  fire,  which  falls  upon  the 
powder  in  a  small  pan  beneath. 

These  are  some  of  the  treasures  and  curiosi- 
ties, the  collections  of  arts  and  trifles,  which 
have  made  the  Saxons  so  proud  of  their  capital, 
and  draw  to  it  men  of  genius  and  taste,  as  well 
as  men  of  mere  idleness  and  dissipation.  The 
general  tone  of  society  bears  the  same  impress 
of  lightness  and  gaiety.  Though  there  are  many 
men  of  high  literary  reputation  in  Dresden,  re- 
gular literary  coteries  are  not  favourite  forms  of 
social  life ;  the  pedantry  and  affectation  which 
generally  surround  them  are  not  for  the  meri- 
dian of  Dresden.  But  it  can  easily  happen  that, 
after  sipping  your  tea  amid  chit-chat,  you  are 


LITERATURE. 

doomed  to  hear  some  one  read  aloud  for  a 
couple  of  hours.  The  yawning  gentlemen  may 
deserve  some  commiseration,  but  the  ladies  are 
not  to  be  pitied,  for  they  are  universally  the 
great  patronesses  of  these  evening  congregations, 
and  knitting  goes  on  just  as  rapidly  as  if  they 
were  tattling  with  each  other.  Tick,  a  poet 
of  original  genius  himself,  and  a  worthy  co-ope- 
rator in  the  labours  which  have  so  successfully 
transplanted  Shakespeare  to  the  soil  of  Germany, 
is  peculiarly  celebrated  for  his  elocutionary 
powers.  I  have  heard  him  read,  at  one  stretch, 
the  whole  of  Shakespeare's  Julius  Caesar,  in 
Schlegel's  translation,  to  an  enraptured  tea-au- 
ditory, with  a  different  modification  of  voice  for 
every  character ;  and  really  the  combined  excel- 
lence of  the  translation  and  elocution  left  little 
to  be  desired. 

Yet,  with  all  its  love  of  gaiety  and  novelty, 
Dresden  is,  I  take  it,  the  only  respectable  Eu- 
ropean capital  in  which  no  newspaper,  properly 
so  called,  is  published.  The  Abendzeitung  is  in- 
tended for  tea-tables,  and  filled  with  sentimental 
tales  and  verses,  old  anecdotes  which  interest 
nobody,  and  critiques  on  the  performances  in 


298  DRESDEN. 

all  the  great  German  theatres,  which  interest 
every  body.  There  is  no  political  newspaper, 
probably  from  the  vicinity  of  Leipzig,  where 
people  perhaps  believe  political  newspapers  can 
be  better  managed,  because  political  matters  arc 
more  attended  to,  and  better  understood.  It 
cannot  be  because  the  censorship  is  more  strict 
at  Dresden  than  at  Leipzig,  for  all  the  Leipzig 
newspapers  are  admitted,  and  at  the  Resource,  a 
club  of  gentlemen  for  reading  newspapers  and 
eating  dinners,  I  found  not  only  all  the  French 
journals,  but  the  Morning  Chronicle  and  the 
Times,  along-side  of  the  Courier. 

English  is  very  generally  cultivated  among 
the  well  educated  ranks,  though  French  is  still 
the  conventional  language  of  courtiers  and  wait- 
ers. The  German  which  they  speak,  and  fond- 
ly speak,  has  no  rival  in  purity,  except  the  dia- 
lect of  Hanover ;  and  the  preference  given  by 
grammarians  to  the  latter  rests  on  small  points 
of  pronunciation,  in  which  analogy  perhaps  fa- 
vours Hanover,  but  the  ear  allows  her  little  su- 
periority. So  far  is  the  nicety  of  Hanover  from 
fixing  itself  in  the  pure  German  states  as  the 
mark  of  a  well  educated  man,  that  I  have  known 


THE  LANGUAGE. 

Hanoverians,  when  living  in  Saxony,  renounce 
their  native  pronunciation,  to  avoid  the  charge 
of  being;  affected.  I  have  sometimes  hesitated 

O 

whether  German,  on  the  lips  of  a  fair,  frolick- 
ing Saxon,  was  not  just  as  pleasing  a  language 
as  Italian  in  the  mouth  of  a  languishing,  volup- 
tuous Venetian, — though  those  who  judge  of  the 
former  of  these  tongues  merely  from  the  apocry- 
phal saying  of  Charles  V.,  that  it  was  a  language 
fit  to  be  spoken  only  to  horses,  will,  no  doubt, 
think  it  very  ridiculous  that  any  such  doubt 
should  ever  be  entertained.  I  do  not  mean  that 
the  accents,  considered  merely  as  the  materials 
of  sound,  fall  so  softly  on  the  ear  ;  but  German 
is  so  much  more  poetical  in  the  ideas  which  these 
accents  suggest  and  represent  than  any  other 
living  language,  that  it  possesses  a  much  higher 
.merit,  because,  in  addition  to  the  philosophical 
regularity  of  its  structure,  it  paints  in  much 
more  vivid  colours.  Even  the  roughness  to  the 
ear  is  by  no  means  so  frequent  or  striking  as 
we  are  apt  to  imagine ;  while  the  expressions 
awake  so  many  feelings  and  associations,  that  the 
merely  sensual  claims  of  the  ear  are,  in  a  great 
measure,  disregarded.  A  traveller  who  has  heard 


300  DRESDEN. 

a  postillion  grumble  about  his  Trinkgeld,  or  a 
couple  of  peasants  curse  and  swear  at  each 
other  in  an  ale-house,  and  who,  whenever  he  is 
in  company  that  is  suitable  for  him,  hears  and 
speaks  only  French,  immediately  writes  down 
that  German  is  a  horrible  language  which  splits 
the  ear,  and  furnishes  merely  a  coarse  medium 
for  saying  coarse  things.  What  would  we  think 
of  Italian  were  it  j  udged  of  in  the  same  way  ? 
Where  are  there  upon  earth  more  grating  and 
atrocious  sounds  than  the  dialects  of  the  Mil- 
anese and  Bolognese  ? 

In  this  gay  and  elegant  capital,  one  of  the 
least  pleasing  features  is  the  number  of  condemn- 
ed malefactors  employed  in  cleaning  the  streets, 
fettered  by  the  leg,  and  kept  to  their  labour  by 
the  rod  of  an  overseer,  and  the  muskets  of  sen- 
tinels. Here,  just  as  in  Italy,  these  miscreants 
have  the  impudence  to  ask  charity  in  the  name 
of  heaven  from  the  passenger  whose  pocket  they 
would  pick,  or  whose  throat  they  would  cut,  if 
the  chain  were  but  taken  from  their  ancle.  The 
time  not  consumed  in  labour  is  spent  in  a  miser- 
able and  corrupting  confinement,  in  dungeons 
which  are  always  loathsome,  and  sometimes  sub- 

12 


CRIMINAL  LAW.  301 

terraneous.  Having  heard  a  professor  of  Jena 
rail,  in  his  lecture,  at  the  mal-administration  of 
English  prisons,  in  a  style  which  I  suspected  no 
German  was  entitled  to  use  who  looked  nearer 
home,  I  took  occasion  to  visit  one  of  the  prisons 
of  Dresden.  It  was  crowded  with  accused  as 
well  as  condemned,  and  seemed  to  have  all  the 
usual  defects  of  ill-regulated  gaols,  both  as  to 
the  health  and  moral  welfare  of  its  inmates. 
They  were  deposited  in  small  dark  cells,  each  of 
which  contained  three  prisoners  ;  a  few  boards, 
across  which  a  coarse  mat  was  thrown,  supplied 
the  place  of  a  bed,  and  the  cells  were  overheat- 
ed. Many  of  the  prisoners  were  persons  whose 
guilt  had  not  yet  been  ascertained  ;  but,  possible 
as  their  innocence  might  be,  it  was  to  some  the 
sixth,  the  eighth,  even  the  twelfth  month 
of  this  demoralizing  confinement.  One  young- 
man,  whom  the  gaoler  allowed  to  be  a  respect- 
able person,  had  been  pining  for  months,  with- 
out knowing,  as  he  said,  why  he  was  there.  The 
allegation  might  be  of  very  doubtful  truth,  but 
the  procrastinated  suffering,  without  any  definite 
point  of  termination,  was  certain.  Till  the 
judge  shall  find  time  to  condemn  them  to  the 


302  DRESDEK. 

highway,  or  dismiss  them  as  innocent,  they  must 
languish  on  in  these  corrupting  triumvirates,  in 
dungeons,  compared  with  which  the  cell  they 
would  be  removed  to,  if  condemned  to  die, 
is  a  comfortable  abode.  I  could  easily  believe 
the  assurance  of  the  gaoler,  that  they  uniformly 
Jeave  the  prison  worse  than  they  entered  it. 

Such  arrangements,  under  a  system  of  crimi- 
nal law  like  that  which  prevails  all  over  Ger- 
many, are  hideous;  because  it  is  a  system  which 
sets  no  determinate  limit  to  the  duration  of  this 
previous  confinement.  The  length  of  the  im- 
prisonment of  an  accused  person  depends,  not  on 
the  law,  but  on  the  judge,  or  those  who  are 
above  the  judge.  The  law  having  once  got  the 
man  into  gaol,  does  not  seem  to  trouble  itself  any 
farther  about  him.  There  are  instances,  and 
recent  ones,  too,  of  persons  being  dismissed  as 
innocent  after  a  five  years1  preparatory  imprison- 
ment. People,  to  be  sure,  shake  their  heads  at 
"such  things,  with  "  aye,  it  was  very  hard  on  the 
poor  man,  but  the  court  could  not  sooner  arrive 
at  the  certainty  of  his  guilt  or  innocence.'1  No 
doubt,  it  is  better,  as  they  allege,  that  a  man 
should  be  unjustly  imprisoned  five  years,  than 


CJUMINAL  LAW.  303 

unjustly  hanged  at  the  end  of  the  first;  but  they 
cannot  see  that,  if  there  was  no  good  ground  for 
hanging  him  at  the  end  of  the  first,  neither 
could  there  be  any  for  keeping  him  in  gaol  dur- 
ing the  other  four.  They  insist  on  the  necessity 
of  discovering  the  truth.  Where  there  are  sus- 
picious circumstances,  though  they  acknowledge 
it  would  be  wrong  to  convict  the  man,  they 
maintain  it  would  be  equally  wrong  to  liberate 
him,  and  therefore  fairly  conclude  that  he  must 
remain  in  prison  "  till  the  truth  comes  out."  To 
get  at  the  certain  truth  is  a  very  excellent  thing; 
but  it  is  a  very  terrible  thing,  that  a  man  must 
languish  in  prison  during  a  period  indefinite  by 
law,  till  his  judges  discover  with  certainty  whe- 
ther he  should  ever  have  been  there  or  not.  The 
secrecy  in  which  all  judicial  proceedings  are 
wrapt  up,  at  once  diminishes  the  apparent  num- 
ber of  such  melancholy  abuses,  and  prevents  the 
public  mind  from  being  much  affected  by  those 
which  become  partially  known. 

All  this  leads  to  another  practice,  which, 
however  it  may  be  disguised,  is  nothing  else 
than  the  torture.  It  is  a  rule,  in  all  capital  of- 
fences, not  to  inflict  the  punishment,  however 


304  DRESDEK. 

clear  the  evidence  may  be,  without  a  confession 
by  the  culprit  himself.  High  treason,  I  believe, 
is  a  practical  exception.  In  it  the  head  must  go 
off,  whether  the  mouth  opens  or  not.  In  all 
other  capital  crimes,  though  there  should  not  be 
a  hook  to  hang  a  doubt  upon,  yet,  if  the  culprit 
deny,  he  is  only  condemned  to,  perhaps,  perpe- 
tual imprisonment.  There  is  no  getting  rid  of 
the  dilemma,  that,  in  the  opinion  of  the  man's 
judges,  his  guilt  is  either  clearly  proved,  or  it  is 
not.  If  it  be  clearly  proved,  then  the  whole 
punishment,  if  not,  then  no  punishment  at  all 
should  be  inflicted ;  otherwise  suspicions  are  vi- 
sited as  crimes,  and  a  man  is  treated  as  a  crimi- 
nal, because  it  is  doubtful  whether  he  be  one  or 
not.  *  If  his  judges  think  that  his  denial  pro- 

*  The  established  practice  has  been  vigorously  attacked 
of  late  years,  especially  by  Feuerbach,  a  high  name  in 
German  jurisprudence.  The  query,  Whether  evidence 
that  would  be  insufficient  to  convict  without  the  confes- 
sion of  the  culprit,  should  justify  a  lower  degree  of  pu- 
nishment, or  free  him  from  all  punishment,  was  the  sub- 
ject of  a  prize  question  in  1800.  A  summary  of  the  con- 
troversy may  be  found  in  the  third  and  fourth  volumes  of 
the  Archiv  des  Criminah-echts }  edited  by  Professors  Klein, 
Kleinschrod,  and  Konopack. 


CRIMINAL  LAW.  305 

ceeds  merely  from  obstinacy,  he  is  consigned 
to  a  dungeon,  against  whose  horrors,  to  judge 
from  the  one  I  was  shown,  innocence  itself 
could  not  long  hold  out ;  for  death  on  the 
scaffold  would  be  a  far  easier  and  more  imme- 
diate liberation,  than  the  mortality  which  creeps 
over  every  limb  in  such  a  cell.  It  is  a  cold, 
damp,  subterraneous  hole;  the  roof  is  so  low,  that 
the  large  drops  of  moisture  distilling  from  above 
must  trickle  immediately  on  the  miserable  inmate; 
its  dimensions  are  so  confined,  that  a  man  could 
not  stretch  out  his  limbs  at  full  length.  Its  only 
furniture  is  wet  straw,  scantily  strewed  on  the 
wet  ground.  There  is  not  the  smallest  opening 
or  cranny  to  admit  either  light  or  air  ;  a  prison- 
er could  not  even  discern  the  crust  of  bread  and 
jug  of  water  allotted  to  support  life  in  a  place 
where  insensibility  would  be  a  blessing.  I  am 
not  describing  any  relique  of  antiquated  barba- 
rity  ;  the  cell  is  still  in  most  efficient  operation. 
About  four  years  ago,  it  was  inhabited  by  a  wo- 
man convicted  of  murder.  As  she  still  denied 
the  crime,  her  judges,  who  had  no  pretence  for 
doubt,  sent  her  to  this  dungeon,  to  extort  a  con- 
fession. At  the  end  of  a  fortnight,  her  obstinacy 


S06  DRESDEN. 

gave  way  ;  when  she  had  just  strength  enough 
left  to  totter  to  the  scaffold,  she  confessed  the 
murder  exactly  as  it  had  been  proved  against 
her. 

Such  a  practice  is  revolting  to  all  good  feel- 
ing, even  when  viewed  as  a  punishment ;  when 
used  before  condemnation,  to  extort  a  confes- 
sion, in  what  imaginable  point  does  it  differ  from 
the  torture  ?  Really  we  could  almost  he  tempt- 
ed to  believe,  that  it  is  not  without  some  view  to 
future  utility,  that,  in  a  more  roomy  apartment 
adjoining  this  infamous  dungeon,  all  the  regu-. 
kr  approved  instruments  of  torture,  from  the 
wheel  to  the  pincers,  are  still  religiously  pre- 
served. A  number  of  iron  hooks  are  fixed  in  the 
ceiling;  a  corresponding  block  of  wood  runs 
across  the  floor,  filled  with  sharp  pieces  of  iron 
pointing  upwards;  in  a  corner  were  mouldering 
the  ropes  by  which,  prisoners  used  to  be  sus- 
pended by  the  wrists  from  the  hooks,  with  their 
feet  resting  on  the  iron  points  below.  At  the 
side  of  the  wheel  is  a  pit  of  exquisitely  cold  wa-. 
ter.  The  benches  and  table  of  the  judges  still 
retain  their  place,  as  well  as  the  old-fashioned 
iron  candlestick,  which,  even  at  mid-day,  fur. 


CRIMINAL  LAW.  307 

nished  the  only  light  that  rendered  visible  the 
darkness  of  this  "  cell  of  guilt  and  misery.11 
Fortunately,  the  dust  has  now  settled  thick  up- 
on them,  never,  let  us  hope,  to  be  disturbed. 

The  worst  of  all  is,  that  this  species  of  torture 
(for,  considering  what  sort  of  imprisonment  it  is, 
and  for  what  purposes  it  is  inflicted,  I  can  give 
it  no  other  name)  is  just  of  that  kind  which 
works  most  surely  on  the  least  corrupted.  To 
the  master-spirits  of  villany,  and  long  tried  ser- 
vants of  iniquity,  a  dark,  damp  hole,  wet  straw, 
and  bread  and  water,  are  much  less  appalling 
than  to  the  novice  in  their  trade,  or  to  the  inno- 
cent man,  against  whom  fortuitous  circumstances 
have  directed  suspicion.  How  many  men  have 
burdened  themselves  with  crimes  which  they  never 
committed,  to  escape  torture  which  they  never 
deserved  .'  What  a  melancholy  catalogue  might 
be  collected  out  of  the  times  when  the  torture 
was  still  inflicted  by  the  executioner  !  And,  alas  ! 
very  recent  experience  robs  us  of  the  satisfaction 
of  believing  they  have  disappeared,  now  that  Ger- 
many has  substituted  for  the  rack  so  excruciat- 
ing a  confinement.  A  lamentable  instance  hap- 
pened in  Dresden  while  I  was  there,  (1821.) 


308  DRESDEN. 

Kiigelchen,  the  most  celebrated  German  painter 
of  his  day,  had  been  murdered  and  robbed  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  city.  A  soldier,  of  the 
name  of  Fischer,  was  apprehended  on  suspicion. 
After  a  long  investigation,  his  judges  found  rea- 
son to  be  clearly  satisfied  of  his  guilt ;  but  still, 
as  he  did  not  confess,  he  was  sent  to  the  dun- 
geon, to  conquer  his  obstinacy.  He  stood  it  out 
for  some  months,  but  at  last  acknowledged  the 
murder.  He  had  not  yet  been  broken  on  the 
wheel,  when  circumstances  came  out  which  point- 
ed suspicion  against  another  soldier,  named  Kalk- 
ofen,  as  having  been  at  least  an  accomplice  in 
the  deed.  The  result  of  the  new  inquiry  was, 
the  clearest  proof  of  Fischer's  total  innocence. 
Kalkofen  voluntarily  confessed,  not  only  that  he 
was  the  murderer  of  Kiigelchen,  but  that  he  had 
committed  likewise  a  similar  crime,  which  had 
occurred  some  months  before,  and  the  perpe- 
trator of  which  had  not  hitherto  been  disco- 
vered. The  miscreant  was  executed,  and  the 
very  same  judges  who  had  subjected  the  un- 
happy Fischer  to  such  a  confinement,  to  ex- 
tort a  confession,  now  liberated  him,  cleared  from 
every  suspicion.  As  the  natural  consequence 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  309 

of  such  durance  in  such  an  abode,  he  had  to  be 
carried  from  the  prison  to  the  hospital.  He 
said,  that  he  made  his  false  confession,  merely  to 
be  released,  even  by  hastening  his  execution, 
from  this  pining  torture  which  preys  equally  on 
the  body  and  the  mind.  This  is  the  most  fright- 
ful side  of  their  criminal  justice.  It  may  be  al- 
lowed, that  there  are  few  instances  of  the  inno- 
cent actually  suffering  on  the  scaffold  ;  such  ex- 
amples are  rare  in  all  countries ;  though  it  is  clear 
that,  in  Germany,  the  guiltless  must  often  owe 

his  escape  to  accident,  while  the  lawhas  done 
every  thing  in  its  power  to  condemn  him.  But 
even  of  those  who  have  at  length  been  recogniz- 
ed as  innocent,  and  restored  to  character  and  so- 
ciety, how  many,  like  poor  Fischer,  have  carried 
with  them,  from  their  prison,  the  seeds  of  dis- 
ease, which  have  ultimately  conducted  them  to 
the  grave  as  certainly  as  the  gibbet  or  the 
wheel  f 

The  Estates  of  Saxony  were  sitting  at  Dresden, 
and  part  of  them  came  to  a  quarrel  with  the  go- 
vernment ;  the  civic  provosts  set  themselves  in 
downright  opposition  to  the  anointed  king,  or,  at 

least,  to  theanointed  king's  ministers.  The  Estates 


510  DRESDEN. 

have  yet  undergone  no  change  ;  they  retain  their 
antiquated  form,  their  old  tediousness,  expen- 
siveness,  and  inefficiency,  a  collection  of  courtly 
nobles  and  beneficed  clergymen,  or  laymen 
enjoying  revenues  that  once  belonged  to  cler- 
gymen, called  together  as  old-fashioned  instru- 
ments which  the  royal  wishes  must  condescend 
to  use,  but  can  likewise  command.  The  great 
mass  of  the  population,  exclusive  of  the  aris- 
tocracy, can  be  said  to  have  a  voice  only 
through  the  few  representatives  of  the  towns,  in 
the  mode  of  whose  election,  again,  there  is  no- 
thing popular.  It  was  they  alone,  however,  who 
showed  a  desire  to  question  the  conduct  of  the 
higher  powers.  They  complained  that  their 
rights  had  been  violated  in  the  imposition  of  tax- 
es ;  they  called  for  the  accounts  of  those  branch- 
es of  the  administration  for  which  extraordinary 
supplies  were  demanded  ;  when  this  was  refused, 
they  requested  permission  to  make  their  pro- 
ceedings public,  as  a  justification  of  themselves 
to  the  people.  This,  too,  was  refused,  and  they 
then  addressed  a  remonstrance  to  the  Ritter- 
schaft,or  assembly  of  the  nobility,  requesting  that 
body  to  join  them  in  making  good  their  reason- 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  311 

able  demands.  To  all  inquiries  in  Dresden  how 
the  matter  had  gone  on,  and  what  proceedings 
the  Ritterscliaft  had  adopted,  the  universal  and 
discouraging  answer  was,  man  weiss  nicht,  "  no- 
"  body  knows." 

In  fact,  in  a  body  so  constituted,  there  is  al- 
ways one  predominating  and  irresistible  interest, 
that  of  the  aristocracy.  In  numbers,  and  still 
more  in  influence,  they  form  by  far  the  greater 
part  of  those  who  are  called  to  this  assembly  of 
indefinite  powers,  of  advisers  rather  than  con- 
trollers. This  influence  is,  in  every  case,  at  the 
disposal  of  the  crown  ;  because,  from  the  habits 
of  society,  and  the  want  of  all  political  independ- 
ence where  there  never  has  been  a  public  politi- 
cal life,  those  who  ostensibly  hold  it  know  no 
higher  reward  than  the  smiles  of  the  crown. 
You  would  more  easily  prevail  with  them  to  vote 
away  the  money  or  personal  security  of  the  peo- 
ple without  inquiry,  than  to  run  the  risk  of  be- 
ing excluded  from  the  next  court  dinner.  The 
defect,  therefore,  does  not  lie  in  the  aristocra- 
cy possessing  a  powerful  influence ;  for  every 
country  which  pretends  to  exclude  them  from  it 
is  forcing  its  political  society  into  unnatural 


312  DRESDEN. 

forms ;  and  can  scarcely  promise  itself  a  stable 
or  tranquil  political  existence  :  it  lies  in  their 
possessing  this  influence  only  in  form,  while  it 
really  belongs  to  the  executive,  and  still  more,  in 
their  allowing  no  other  class  to  have  any  influ- 
ence at  all. 

Amid  the  feudal  relations  under  which  this 
form  of  government  originated,  and  which  alone 
could  give  it  any  justification,  the  nobility  were 
really  almost  the  only  persons,  exclusive  of  the 
towns  which  acknowledged  no  sovereign  but  the 
empire,  who  could  be  trusted,  to  any  useful  pur- 
pose, with  political  power.  The  connection  be- 
tween them  and  the  lower  ranks  was  so  unequal, 
that  any  influence  given  to  the  latter  only  in- 
creased the  power  of  the  former.  A  noble  could 
have  used  their  votes  just  as  arbitrarily  in  wrest- 
ing from  a  neighbour  the  representation  of  a 
county,  as  he  used  their  swords  in  wresting  from 
him  a  pretty  daughter,  or  a  score  of  black  cattle. 
Out  of  their  own  body,  no  class  pretended  to  any 
rights,  because  there  were  none  which  could  be 
maintained  against  the  brute  force  that  had 
every  where  constituted  the  sword  interpreter  of 
public  law.  But  this  exclusive  influence  was 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  313 

likewise  a  very  effective  one  against  the  monarch. 
Those  very  feudal  relations  which  enabled  them 
to  abuse  every  body  else,  enabled  them  likewise 
to  prevent  the  monarch  from  abusing  any  body 
without  their  permission.  If  even  the  head  of 
the  Holy  Roman  Empire  called  them  around  him 
to  punish  a  disobedient  count  or  an  impertinent 
provost,  they  took  their  own  way,  and  followed 
their  own  likings,  in  the  quarrel.  The  army  of 
the  empire  was  half  assembled,  made  half  a  cam- 
paign to  do  nothing  at  all,  and,  in  the  course  of 
centuries,  down  to  the  Seven  Years'  War,  when 
the  phantom  for  the  last  time  took  a  bodily 
form,  fully  justified  the  ridicule  attached  to  the 
very  name  of  the  Reichsexecut'tonsarmee.  But 
it  is  long  since  all  the  relations  of  society  were 
totally  changed  in  both  respects.  The  excluded 
classes  have  become  more  proper  depositaries  of 
a  certain  portionof  political  influence;  still  earlier, 
the  excluding  classes  had  become  altogether  un- 
fit to  monopolize  an  influence  intended  to  check 
the  monarch,  because  they  had  degenerated  into 
a  body  of  courtly  retainers,  dependent  on  that 
very  monarch,  commanded  by  him  to  ratify  his 
pleasure,  requested  perhaps  to  advise,  and,  if 
VOL.  i.  o 


DRESDEN. 

they  disapproved,  destitute  of  every  instrument 
to  make  their  disapprobation  efficient.  They 
were  powerful  men,  and,  in  opposing  the  mo- 
narch, were  on  many  occasions  useful  men,  when 
they  had  swords  in  their  hands,  and  vassals  at 
their  backs ;  but  they  are  worthless  as  a  legis- 
lative body?  now  that  their  only  weapon  is  the 
grey  goose  quill  in  the  hand  of  their  clerk.*  Pub- 
lic opinion  could  alone  give  them  force ;  but  that 
is  a  weapon  which  they  do  not  venture  to  use,  for 
they  know  that,  if  once  drawn,  it  would  probably 
attack  the  forms  which  make  them,  though  only 
in  name,  the  exclusive  organs  of  public  senti- 
ment on  the  public  administration. 

Thus  the  predominating  influence  of  the  aris- 
tocracy, though  annihilated  as  to  its  power  of 


*  So  accurately  do  the  people  judge  of  the  utility  of 
such  a  body,  that  it  has  become  a  vulgar,  indeed,  but  yet 
a  true,  because  a  proverbial  distich  : 

Das  was  ein  Landtag  isl  schliesst  sich  in  diesem  Reim  ; 
Versammelt  euch,  schafft  geld,  und  packt  euch  \vieder 
heirn. 

The  picture  of  our  parliament  is  in  these  simple  rhymes ; 
Assemble,  give  us  money>  and  get  home  again  betimes. 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  315 

doing  good,  still  exists  as  to  its  power  of  exclud- 
ing all  other  classes  which  have  gradually  risen 
to  be  worthy  of  a  more  efficient  voice;  the  old 
forms  were  cut  only  to  oligarchical  shapes,  and 
are  still  the  uniform  of  the  only  constitutional 
legislators.  The  system  is  bad  in  theory,  be- 
cause it  is  at  once  exclusive  and  inefficient ;  in 
practice,  it  is  not  productive  of  real  oppression, 
because,  from  the  personal  character  of  the  mo- 
narch, he  is  as  anxious  to  promote  the  happiness  of 
his  kingdom  as  of  his  own  family.  But  in  Saxony, 
as  in  every  other  German  state  which  has  ad- 
mitted no  modification  of  the  old  principle,  a 
king  with  a  less  estimable  heart,  and  no  better  a 
head,  than  the  present  sovereign,  could  do  infinite 
mischief,  and  there  would  be  no  recognized 
power  in  the  state  which  could  legally  and  effect- 
ually set  itself  in  the  breach. 


316 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THURINGIA CASSEL. 

Manner  vetsorgten  das  briillende  Vieh,  und  die  Pferd'  an 

den  Wagen ; 

Wasche  trockneten  emsig  auf  alien  Hecken  die  Weiber; 
Und  es  ergotzten  die  Kinder  sich  platschernd  im  Wasscr 

des  Baches. 

GOTHE. 

RETRACING  Thuringia  from  Weimar  towards 
the  capita]  of  Westphalia,  Erfurth,  about  twelve 
miles  from  the  former,  presents  its  ramparts  and 
cannon.  It  is  only  as  a  fortress,  forming  the 
key  between  Saxony  and  Franconia,  that  it  is 
now  of  any  importance  ;  and  the  lounging  Prus- 
sian military  are  the  most  frequent  objects  in  its 
deserted  streets.  The  sixty  thousand  inhabit- 
ants whom  its  trade  and  manufactures  maintain- 
ed, down  to  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century, 


ERFURTH.  317 

have  diminished  to  less  than  one-third  of  the 
number.  Erfurth  sunk  as  Leipzig  rose.  The 
last  scene  of  splendour  that  enlivened  it,  was  the 
congress  of  so  many  crowned  heads  round  Na- 
poleon in  1807.  Bonaparte,  though  he  rarely 
indulged  in  the  mere  pleasures  of  royalty,  had  a 
troop  of  French  actors  with  him,  and  both  here 
and  at  Weimar,  he  ordered  Voltaire's  Death  of 
Caesar  to  be  given,  a  strange  choice  for  such  a 
man.  During  the  congress  of  Aix-la-Chapelle, 
the  wife  of  a  northern  minister  refused  to  go  to 
the  theatre,  because  "  cette  piece  liberale,1'  Wil- 
liam Tell,  was  to  be  performed. 

In  no  other  Saxon  town  have  the  Catholic  in- 
habitants kept  their  ground,  even  in  numbers, 
so  welf  as  here.  In  the  very  heart  of  the  coun- 
try where  the  Reformation  first  took  root,  sur- 
rounded on  all  sides  by  Protestants,  and  long 
governed  by  Protestant  princes,  they  have  suc- 
ceeded in  maintaining  an  equality  with  the  new 
religion,  as  if  determined  to  follow  as  much 
what  they  had  seen  of  the  Reformer  in  his  youth, 
as  what  they  had  heard  of  his  doctrines  in  his 
more  advanced  years.  The  Augustine  mona- 
stery, in  which  the  young  Luther  first  put  on 


318  ERFURTH. 

the  cowl  of  the  hierarchy  which  he  was  to  shake 
to  its  foundations,  and  strove  to  lull  with  his 
flute  the  impatient  longings  of  a  spirit  that  was 
to  set  Europe  in  flames,  has  been  converted  to 
the  purposes  of  an  orphan  asylum ;  but  the  cell 
of  the  Reformer  has  been  religiously  preserved, 
as  the  earliest  memorial  of  the  greatest  man  of 
modern  times.  The  gallery  on  which  it  opens 
is  adorned  with  a  Dance  of  Death,  *  and  over 
the  door  is  the  inscription, 

Cellula  divino  magnoque  habitata  Luthero, 

Salve,  vix  tan  to  cellula  digna  viro  ! 
Dignus  erat  qui  regum  splendida  tecta  subiret, 

Te  dedignatus  non  tamen  ille  fuit. 


*  The  reader  probably  knows,  that  such  a  Dance  of 
Death  is  a  series  of  paintings  representing  Death  leading 
off  to  the  other  world  all  ranks  of  men,  from  the  monarch 
to  the  beggar,  and  of  all  professions  and  characters, 
priests  and  coquettes,  soldiers  and  philosophers,  musi- 
cians and  doctors,  £c.  &c.  They  were  generally  pain  t- 
ed,  either  in  church-yards,  as  in  the  cemetery  of  the 
Neustadt  in  Dresden,  to  teach  the  general  doctrine  of 
human  mortality,  or  in  churches  and  convents,  to  com- 
memorate the  ravages  of  a  pestilence.  Of  the  latter  kind 
was  the  celebrated  Dance  of  Death  at  Bale,  painted  on 


LUTHER.  319 

It  is  small  and  simple,  and  must  have  been  a 
freezing  study.  Beside  his  portrait  is  hung  a 
German  exposition  of  the  text,  "  Death  is  swal- 
lowed up  in  victory,"  in  his  own  handwriting, 
written  in  the  form  in  which  old  books  often 
terminate,  an  inverted  pyramid.  There  is  a 
copy  of  his  Bible  so  full  of  very  good  illumina- 
tions, that  it  might  be  called  a  Bible  with  plates. 
The  wooden  boards  are  covered  with  ingenious 
carving  and  gilding,  and  studded  with  pieces  of 
coloured  glass,  to  imitate  the  precious  stones 
which  so  frequently  adorn  the  manuscripts  of 
the  church.  It  is  said  to  have  been  the  work  of 
a  hermit  of  the  sixteenth  century,  who  thus  em- 
ployed his  leisure  hours  to  do  honour  to  Luther ; 
yet  Protestant  hermits  are  seldom  to  be  met 
with.  • 


the  occasion  of  the  plague  which  raged  while  the  Council 
was  sitting.  It  no  longer  exists  except  in  engravings. 
It  has  commonly  been  attributed  to  Holbein,  but,  of  late 
years,  this  has  been  questioned,  and  attempts  have  been 
made  to  prove,  from  particular  figures  and  dresses,  that  it 
was  painted  at  least  sixty  years  before  Holbein  was  born, 
and  probably  by  Glauber,  whose  name  appears  on  one  of 
the  figures. 


320  ERFURTH. 

Wherever  monks  nestled,  nuns  were  never 
a  wanting.  Though  the  Prussian  government 
turned  out  both,  when  compelled  by  its  neces- 
sities to  convert  church  property  to  the  use  of 
the  state,  a  few  samples  were  retained,  not  out 
of  regard  to  the  religious  objects  of  the  institu- 
tion, but  from  views  of  public  utility  as  to  edu- 
cation. The  Abbess  of  the  Ursuline  convent  in 
Erfurth  very  affably  receives  the  world,  though 
she  never  comes  into  it.  The  convent  machinery 
is  entire.  When  you  knock,  a  key  is  sent  out 
by  a  turning  box,  and  the  key  itself  admits  you 
no  farther  than  the  parlour  grate.  The  grate, 
however,  is  no  longer  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  the 
profane  sex.  A  withered  dame,  whose  conse- 
crated charms  could  bear  with  perfect  impunity 
the  gaze  of  worldly  eyes,  admits  the  visitor  to 
the  presence  of  the  Abbess  in  the  parlour,  a  spa- 
cious, but  empty, 'bare,  comfortless  room.  She 
appeared  to  be  about  sixty,  during  twenty-two 
years  of  which  she  had  never  crossed  the  thresh- 
old of  her  convent.  She  was  extremely  active 
and  obliging,  without  any  taint  of  the  ascetic  or 
affectedly  demure.  She  spoke  willingly,  as  was 
natural,  of  the  happiness  and  tranquillity  of  her 


CONVENTS.  321 

spiritual  family,  and,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  of 
the  late  Queen  of  Prussia,  who  had  saved  them. 
A  black  gown,  like  a  sack,  any  thing  but  fashion- 
ed to  show  the  shape,  descended  from  the  shoul- 
ders to  the  toes  in  one  unvarying  diameter.  A 
thick  white  bandage  wrapped  up  the  neck  to  the 
very  chin,  and  was  joined  below  to  a  broad  tip- 
pet of  the  same  colour,  which  entirely  covered 
the  shoulders  and  breast.  The  eyebrows  peep- 
ed forth  from  beneath  another  white  bandage, 
which  enveloped  the  brow,  covered  the  hair,  and 
was  joined  behind  to  the  ample  black  veil,  which 
the  Abbess  had  politely  thrown  back.  The 
whole  dress  consisted  of  coarse  plain  black  and 
white,  without  a  tittle  of  ornament  either  in  good 
or  bad  taste. 

On  the  parlour  table  lay  a  number  of  work- 
bags,  pin-cases,  pin-cushions,  and  similar  trifles, 
the  manufacture  of  which  employs  the  leisure 
hours  of  the  brides  of  heaven.  It  is  expected 
that  the  visitor  shall  make  a  purchase ;  and  he 
does  it  the  more  willingly  in  this  case,  because 
the  convent,  though  not  at  all  wealthy,  educates 
gratuitously  a  number  of  poor  female  children. 
No  better  way  could  have  been  devised  of  em- 


322  ERFURTH. 

ploying  the  time  which,  in  spite  of  devotion, 
must  hang  heavy  on  the  hands  of  a  nun.  "  Pray 
without  ceasing,"  is  a  difficult  injunction,  even  for 
young  ladies.  It  was  this  view  of  public  advan- 
tage alone  which,  on  the  intercession  of  the  late 
queen,  saved  the  convent  from  abolition.  The 
nun  was  allowed  to  separate  herself  from  the 
world,  but  only  to  perform  the  duties  of  a  mo- 
ther. Great  part  of  the  children  are  Protest- 
ants ;  the  nuns  do  not  interfere  with  their  reli- 
gious education  ;  that  is  left  to  a  Protestant 
clergyman. 

The  church,  with  its  images  and  ornaments, 
displayed,  as  might  be  expected,  a  huge  profu- 
sion of  millinery,  in  the  very  worst  style  of  satin 
and  gilding.  The  images,  and,  above  all,  those 
of  the  Virgin,  on  whose  adornment  her  virgin 
devotees  had  bestowed  all  their  simple  skill  and 
pious  industry,  were  horrible. 

It  is  even  allowed  to  visit  the  cells,  the  Ab- 
bess having  previously  taken  care  to  remove  the 
inhabitants.  The  cell  was  about  ten  feet  long, 
by  six  broad.  Though  the  weather  was  still 
extremely  cold,  there  was  neither  stove  nor  fire- 
place ;  and  the  only  window  looked  out  upon  a 


CONVENTS.  323 

small  inner  court,  which,  in  summer,  is  a  gar- 
den. In  one  corner  stood  a  low  bed,  with 
coarse,  but  clean  green  curtains,  so  narrow,  that 
even  a  nun  must  lie  very  quiet  to  lie  comfort- 
ably. A  few  religious  daubings  misadorned  the 
walls ;  on  a  small  table  lay  a  few  religious  books, 
and  a  glass  case  containing  a  waxen  figure  of  a 
human  body  in  the  most  revolting  state  of  cor- 
ruption, covered  and  girt  round  by  its  crawling 
and  loathsome  destroyers.  This  was  the  furni- 
ture of  the  nun's  cell ;  every  thing  simple  and 
serious  ;  nothing  but  the  light  of  Heaven  to  put 
her  in  mind  of  the  world  she  had  quitted. 

In  some  particulars,  the  rigour  of  the  strict 
monastic  rule  has  been  relaxed.  The  nuns  are 
allowed  to  converse  alone  with  their  friends  at 
the  parlour  grate ;  formerly  it  was  necessary 
that  two  sisters  should  be  present.  But  the  law 
of  absolute  seclusion  is  unrelentingly  maintain- 
ed ;  the  nun,  having  once  taken  the  veil,  never 
again  crosses  the  threshold  of  the  convent.  It 
is  right  it  should  be  so,  if  a  convent  is  to  exist  at 
all.  The  moment  this  rule  is  relaxed,  a  nunnery 
becomes  merely  a  boarding-house,  and  one  of  a 
very  questionable  kind.  At  the  same  time,  it 


824  ERFUKTH. 

is  more  than  doubtful,  whether  the  Prussian 
government  would  visit  a  runaway  nun  with 
any  punishment,  or  compel  her  to  return  to  her 
religious  confinement.  The  days  in  which  pretty 
girls  were  built  up  in  stone  walls  for  preferring 
a  corporeal  to  a  spiritual  bridegroom  are  over, 
and  the  truant  damsel  would  probably  be  left  to 
the  chastisement  of  her  own  conscience.  The 
noviciate  is  two  years,  and,  during  the  preceding 
two  years,  five  young  ladies  had  taken  the  veil. 
The  permission  of  the  government  is  necessary ; 
for,  without  the  royal  sanction,  no  woman  dare 
marry  herself  to  Heaven.  The  predilection  for 
such  matches,  however,  is  rapidly  disappearing. 
The  number  of  sisters  in  this  convent  is  seven- 
teen. At  the  accession  of  the  present  Abbess 
they  were  fifty  six.  They  had  died  out,  most 
of  them,  she  said,  in  a  good  old  age,  and  candi- 
dates had  not  come  forward  in  sufficient  num- 
bers to  replace  them. 

Circumstances  prevented  me  from  indulging 
in  more  than  a  hasty  glance  at  Gotha,  another 
small  capital  of  a  small  state.  It  has  more  the 
air  of  a  town  than  Weimar,  but  has  not  more 
of  the  bustle  of  life,  and  far  less  of  its  pleasures 
12 


GOTHA.  325 

and  elegant  enjoyments.  Gotha  has  not  main- 
tained the  literary  character  which  it  had  begun 
to  acquire  under  Ernest  II.  Himself  a  man  of 
science,  he  drew  men  of  science  to  his  court, 
and  all  public  institutions  connected  with  learn- 
ing flourished  beneath  his  liberality.  His  suc- 
cessor, the  late  Duke,  who  died  in  1822,  was  of 
retired  and  eccentric  habits,  bordering  occasion- 
ally on  the  hypochondriac.  Though  allowed  not 
to  be  without  talent,  and  supposed  to  have  even 
written  romances,  he  sought  his  enjoyments 
chiefly  in  music.  Many  people  would  not  reck- 
on the  want  of  a  theatre  a  misfortune  in  a 
town  ;  but,  in  a  small  German  capital,  where  the 
court  affects  no  parade,  and  patronizes  no  other 
mode  of  amusement,  nothing  could  be  a  surer 
sign  of  its  Trophonian  qualities.  The  Goths 
occasionally  pack  themselves  into  coaches,  and 
make  a  journey  of  forty  miles,  even  in  the  depth 
of  winter,  to  hear  an  opera  in  Weimar. 

Eisenach  is  the  most  wealthy  and  populous 
town  in  the  duchy  of  Weimar,  and  sends  a  whole 
member  to  parliament.  With  a  population  not 
exceeding  ten  thousand  inhabitants,  it  was  reck- 
oned, till  within  these  few  years,  among  the 


326  EISENACH. 

most  flourishing  of  the  manufacturing  towns  so 
frequent  between  Leipzig  and  Frankfort.  Se- 
duced by  the  protection  which  the  Continental 
System  seemed  to  promise,  its  capitalists  forsook 
the  manufacture  of  wool  for  that  of  cotton. 
They  had  just  advanced  far  enough  to  have  san- 
guine hopes  of  ultimately  succeeding,  when  the 
unexpected  changes  in  political  relations  again 
opened  the  German  markets  to  England,  and 
their  cotton  manufactures  were  blighted.  One 
of  the  most  ingenious  and  persevering  among 
their  capitalists  told  me,  that,  during  the  former 
period,  he  had  employed  nearly  four  hundred 
persons  in  cotton  spinning, — a  large  scale  for  an 
establishment  in  a  small  Saxon  town.  After  at- 
tempting in  vain  to  struggle  on  after  the  peace, 
he  found  it  necessary  to  follow  the  example  of 
others,  dismiss  the  greater  part  of  his  workmen, 
return  with  the  rest  to  wool,  adhere  to  the  com- 
mercial congress  of  Darmstadt,  and  cry  loudly 
for  prohibitory  duties  against  England. 

The  ruins  of  the  Wartburg,  an  ancient  resi- 
dence of  the  Electors  of  Saxony,  hang  majesti- 
cally above  the  town  on  a  wooded  eminence, 
overlooking  the  most  beautiful  portion  of  the 


LUTHER.  327 

Thuringian  forest.  It  was  here  that  the  Elec- 
tor did  Luther  the  friendly  turn  of  detaining 
him  ostensibly  as  a  prisoner,  to  secure  him 
against  the  hostility  of  the  church,  whom  his 
boldness  before  the  diet  at  Worms  had  doubly 
incensed ;  and,  among  the  few  apartments  still 
maintained  in  some  sort  of  repair,  is  that  in 
which  the  Reformer  lightened  the  tedium  of  his 
durance,  by  completing  his  translation  of  the 
Bible.  In  the  pious  work  he  was  often  inter- 
rupted by  the  Devil,  who  viewed  its  progress 
with  dismay,  but  who  could  not  have  been  treat- 
ed with  greater  contempt  by  St  Dunstan  himself 
than  by  the  Reformer.  Having  appeared  in 
vain,  not  only  in  his  own  infernal  personality, 
but  under  the  more  seducing  forms  of  indolence, 
lukewarmness,  and  love  of  worldly  grandeur,  he 
at  length  assumed  the  shape  of  a  large  blue  fly. 
But  Luther  knew  Satan  in  all  his  disguises,  re- 
buked him  manfully,  and  at  length,  losing  all  pa- 
tience as  the  concealed  devil  still  buzzed  round 
his  pen,  started  up,  and  exclaiming,  Willst  du 
dann  niclit  ruhig  bleiben !  *  hurled  his  huge  ink 

*  Wilt  thou  not  be  quiet ! 


328  HESSE. 

bottle  at  the  prince  of  darkness.  The  diaboli- 
cal intruder  disappeared,  and  the*  ink,  scattered 
on  the  wall,  remains  until  this  day,  a  visible 
proof  of  the  great  Reformer's  invulnerability  to 
all  attacks  of  the  evil  one.  The  people,  no  less 
superstitious,  in  their  own  way,  than  the  devotees 
of  the  opposing  church,  look  with  horror  on  the 
sceptics  who  find  in  the  story  merely  the  very 
credible  fact,  that  the  honest  Reformer,  who  by 
no  means  possessed  the  placidity  of  uncle  Toby, 
had  lost  his  temper  at  the  buzzing  of  an  impor- 
tunate fly.  Werner,  who,  notwithstanding  the 
frequent  mysticism  of  his  theology,  and  the  ir- 
regularity of  his  fancy,  has  delineated  Luther, 
in  the  Weihe  der  Kraft,  with  more  force  than 
any  other  German  poet,  represents  him  as  so  ex- 
hausted and  abstracted  from  the  world,  after  in- 
tense study,  that  for  a  while  he  does  not  know 
his  own  father  and  mother. 

On  entering,  from  Saxony,  the  Electorate  of 
Hesse  Cassel,  both  nature  and  the  men  pre- 
sent a  different  appearance.  There  is  more  of 
the  forest ;  the  country  is  a  heap  of  moderately 
elevated  ridges,  stretching  across  each  other  in 
every  variety  of  form  and  direction,  and  princi- 


HESSE.  329 

pally  covered  with  beech  woods.  All  the  culti- 
vation lies  in  the  narrow  rallies  which  run  be- 
tween them,  occasionally  climbing  the  slope  a 
short  way,  and  encroaching  on  the  forest  just  far 
enough  to  show  how  much  may  still  be  gained. 
From  their  position  and  confined  extent,  the 
vallies  are  exposed,  in  this  climate,  to  excessive 
moisture,  and,  to  judge  from  the  appearance  the 
fields  presented  after  a  day's  moderate  rain, 
the  peasantry  follow  a  very  imperfect,  or  a  very 
indolent  system  of  draining.  Many  fields  were 
under  water,  and  yet  rivulets  close  by,  into 
which  it  might  easily  have  been  carried  off.  Sa- 
tisfied with  having  one  mode  of  doing  a  thing, 
however  imperfect  or  inconvenient  it  may  be, 
they  never  think  of  looking  about  for  a  better. 

With  capital,  and  without  institutions  that  de- 
press agriculture,  an  immense  addition  might  be 
made  to  the  productiveness  of  this  part  of  Hesse, 
both  in  improving  what  is  already  cultivated, 
and  in  gaining  what  the  Thuringian  forest  still 
retains ;  for  by  far  the  greater  part  of  these 
ridges  might  be  successfully  cultivated  to  the 
very  summit.  A  portion  of  wood  must  always 
be  retained  for  fuel.  Though  coal  is  by  no 


330  HESSE. 

means  rare,  the  Hessians,  like  all  other  Germans, 
have  strong  prejudices  against  using  it.  Their 
coal,  they  say,  has  so  much  sulphur  in  it,  that  it 
produces  an  intolerably  offensive  smell.  The 
very  same  objection  is  made  at  Dresden  to  the 
coal  worked  in  the  vicinity  of  Tharant,  and  at 
Vienna  to  the  coals  of  CEdenburg ;  and,  every- 
where, the  fossil  is  left  to  those  to  whose  pover- 
ty its  cheapness,  in  comparison  with  wood,  is  an 
important  consideration.  Nothing  but  the  scar- 
city and  consequent  rise  in  the  price  of  wood  will 
force  a  market  for  coals.  In  Saxony  this  effect 
is  beginning  to  be  felt  already. 

The  Westphalian  peasantry,  like  all  their 
neighbours,  are  chiefly  hereditary  tenants,  and 
you  will  find  men  among  them  who  boast  of 
being  able  to  prove,  that  they  still  cultivate  the 
same  farms  on  which  their  ancestors  lived  before 
Charlemagne  conquered  the  descendants  of 
Herrman,  or,  for  any  thing  they  know,  before 
Herrman  himself,  drawing  his  hordes  from  these 
very  vallies,  annihilated  the  legions  of  Varus. 
They  do  not  retain  a  single  regret  for  the  king- 
dom of  Westphalia,  nor  have  they  any  reason 
to  do  so.  It  was  the  unsparing  domination  of  a 


THE  PEASANTRY.  331 

foreigner ;  it  was  a  period  of  extravagant  expen- 
diture for  purposes  of  foreign  policy  or  private 
profligacy}  and,  at  every  turn,  the  new  forms  of 
the  French  administration  were  rubbing  against 
some  old  affection  or  rooted  habit.  Napoleon 
could  not  bribe  them  to  any  amicable  feeling  to- 
wards him,  even  by  pretending  to  annihilate  any 
cramping  feudal  relations  which  might  still  exist 
between  them  and  their  landlords.  They  felt 
that  they  were  more  impoverished  than  ever, 
by  a  power  which  had  no  claim  to  impoverish 
them  at  all,  and  were  treated  as  foreigners  in 
their  own  country.  They  could  neither  endure 
French  insolence,  nor  reckon  in  French  money ; 
"  but  now,"  say  they,  "  we  know  again  where 
we  are." 

In  body  they  are  a  stouter  made  race  of  men 
than  the  Saxons,  with  broader  visages  and  more 
florid  complexions;  but  they  have  likewise  a 
more  stolid  expression.  They  retain  very  gener- 
ally the  old  costume,  tight  pantaloons,  a  loose 
short  jacket,  commonly  of  blue  cloth,  and  a  very 
low  crowned  hat  with  an  immense  breadth  of 
brim,  from  beneath  which  they  allow  ,  their 
shaggy  locks  to  grow  unshorn,  not  neatly  plaited, 


HESSE. 

as  among  the  young  men  of  some  of  the  Swiss 
Cantons,  but  seeking  their  own  tangled  way  over 
the  shoulders  and  down  the  back,  after  the  fa- 
shion of  the  students.  The  students,  again,  cite 
the  Westphalian  peasantry  to  prove,  that  the 
Germans  who  fought  against  Varus  undoubted- 
ly wore  long  hair  ;  and  thence  conclude,  that  a 
barber's  scissars  must  be  as  fatal  to  the  spirit 
of  German  independence,  as  Dalilah's  were  to 
the  strength  of  Sampson. 

The  villages  have  much  more  of  the  Bavarian 
than  Saxon  character,  and  display,  externally  at 
least,  the  utmost  squalor.  The  only  tolerable 
dwelling  is  generally  that  of  the  postmaster ; 
the  others  are  wooden  hovels,  dark,  smoky, 
patched,  and  ruinous.  The  crowds  of  begging 
children  that  surround  you  at  every  stage,  (an 
importunacy  to  which  you  are  seldom  exposed 
in  other  parts  of  Germany,)  prove  that  there 
must  be  poverty  as  well  as  slovenliness.  Of  the 
latter  there  is  abundance  in  every  thing.  Even 
the  little  country  church,  and  its  simple  ceme- 
tery, which  even  the  poorest  peasantry  comon- 
ly  love  to  keep  neat  and  clear,  follow  the  gene- 
ral rule,  that  it  is  enough  if  a  thing  barely  serve 


CASSEL.  333 

rts  purpose.  At  Hoheneichen,  the  church  was  a 
miserable  tottering  heap  of  broken  walls,  where 
many  a  man  would  not  willingly  lodge  his  horse ; 
and,  in  the  church-yard,  while  the  tomb  stones 
glared  in  all  colours  of  the  rainbow,  bristled 
with  cherubs  like  Bologna  sausages,  and  sera- 
phim sinking  beneath  the  load  of  their  own  em- 
bonpoint, neglected  gooseberry  bushes,  heaps  of 
straw,  and  piles  of  winter  fuel,  were  mingled  with 
the  new  made  graves. 

Cassel  stands  partly  at  the  bottom,  partly  on 
the  steep  ascent,  and  partly  on  the  summit  of  an 
eminence  washed  by  the  Fulda.  No  two  parts 
of  a  city  can  be  more  distinct  in  external  charac- 
ter than  the  lower  and  upper  towns.  The  for- 
mer is  huddled  together  on  the  river,  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  hill ;  its  streets  are  narrow,  dark,  and 
confused  ;  the  houses  consist  mostly  of  a  frame 
of  wood- work,  in  which  the  beams  cross  each 
other,  leaving  numerous  and  irregular  inter- 
stices ;  these  interstices  are  then  built  up  with 
stone  or  brick.  Every  floor  projects  over  the  in- 
ferior one,  so  that  the  house  is  much  broader  at 
top  than  at  bottom  :  and  some  narrow  lanes  are 
thus,  in  a  manner,  arched  over,  to  the  utter  ex- 


334  CASSEL. 

elusion  of  light  and  air.  The  upper  town, 
again,  originally  begun  by  French  refugees, 
who  brought  their  arts  and  industry  to  Cassel  on 
the  revocation  of  the  edict  of  Nantz,  is  light, 
airy,  and  elegant,  from  its  style  of  building  as 
well  as  from  its  site.  The  electoral  palace  occu- 
pies great  part  of  a  street,  or  rather  of  a  delight- 
ful terrace,  which  runs  along  the  brow  of  the 
hill,  looking  down  on  the  Augarten,  the  com- 
bined Kensington  and  Hyde  Park  of  Cassel,  and 
far  and  wide  over  the  hills  and  valleys  of  Thu- 
ringia,  and  the  windings  of  the  Fulda.  Squares 
like  those  of  Cassel  are  rare  things  in  the  second- 
ary German  capitals.  The  Museum,  a  majestic 
Ionic  building,  forms  nearly  one  side  of  the 
Friderichsplatz,  and  is  its  principal  ornament, 
while  its  greatest  defect  is  a  statue  of  the  Elector 
Frederick,  who  built  the  museum,  and  gave  his 
name  to  the  square,  standing  on  legs  like  the 
bodies  of  his  own  hogs.  When  the  French  threw 
it  down,  in  furtherance  of  their  plan  to  remove 
every  thing  which  might  recal  the  memory  of 
the  expelled  family,  whose  crown  was  given  to 
the  puppet  Jerome,  they  had  the  impudence  to 
make  this  want  of  taste  in  the  sculptor  a  pretext 


THE  CITV.  335 

for  their  mischievous  violence.  The  faithful 
Hessians  contrived  to  preserve  the  old  Elector, 
and,  on  their  liberation,  restored  him  to  the  pe- 
destal in  his  original  corpulence  of  calf.  The 
Konigsplatz  is  the  finest  square  in  Germany,  if 
that  may  be  called  a  square  which  is  oval.  It  is 
the  point  of  union  between  the  Lower  and  Upper 
towns ;  and  the  six  streets  which  run  off  from  it, 
at  equal  distances  in  its  circumference,  produce 
a  very  marked  echo.  The  sounds  uttered  by  a 
person  standing  in  the  centre  are  distinctly  re- 
peated six  times.  The  French  erected  a  statue 
of  Napoleon  in  the  centre ;  the  Hessians  observ- 
ed that  their  favourite  echo  immediately  became 
dumb,  and  will  not  believe  that  a  statue  of  their 
own  Elector  would  have  equally  injured  the  re- 
verberation, by  displacing  the  point  of  utterance 
from  the  exact  centre.  As  the  Allies  advanced, 
first  the  nose  disappeared  from  the  French  Em- 
peror, then  an  arm,  then  he  was  hurled  down  al- 
together, a  lamp-post  was  set  up  in  his  place, 
and  the  echo  again  opened  its  mouth. 

Cassel  only  contains  about  twenty  thousand 
inhabitants,  exclusive  of  the  military,  who  are 
over-numerous,  but  have  been  the  source,  if  not 


336  CASSEL. 

of  respectability  and  safety  to  the  country,  yet 
of  millions  to  the  electoral  treasury.  The  popu- 
lation is  said  to  have  been  nearly  one-half  great- 
er under  Jerome.  This  is  easily  credible,  but 
is  just  the  reverse  of  any  proof  of  prosperity. 
Cassel  was  then  the  capital  of  a  much  more  ex- 
tensive kingdom  than  the  proper  electorate;  a 
greater  number  of  public  functionaries,  and  a 
greater  military  establishment,  were  maintained. 
Round  the  gay,  dissolute,  and  extravagant  court 
of  Westphalia,  crowded  a  host  of  rapacious  fo- 
reigners and  idle  hangers-on,  who  were  unknown 
under  the  homely,  nay,  the  parsimonious  admi- 
nistration of  the  expelled  Elector.  But  these 
classes  only  fill  the  streets  of  a  capital  at  the  ex- 
pence  of  the  morals  and  prosperity  of  the  coun- 
try, and  no  where  were  both  these  consequences 
more  severely  felt  than  in  Hesse.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  bustle  and  splendour  which  Jerome  cre- 
ated amongst  them,  the  Hessians,  though  as 
fond  of  these  things  as  other  people,  do  most 
cordially  detest  him  and  his  whole  crew  of  cor- 
rupters  and  squanderers.  Jerome  perhaps  did 
not  wish  to  do  mischief  for  its  own  sake ;  few 
miscreants  do  ;  he  would  have  had  no  objection 


KING   JEROME.  337 

that  every  man  and  woman  in  his  kingdom 
should  have  been  as  idle,  and  worthless,  and 
dissolute  as  himself;  but  he  laboured  under  such 
a  want  of  head,  such  a  horror  of  business,  and 
such  a  devotion  to  grovelling  pleasures,  that  it 
was  only  by  mistake  he  could  stumble  on  any 
thing  good.  He  was,  in  fact,  a  good  natured, 
silly,  unprincipled  voluptuary,  whose  only  wish 
was  to  enjoy  the  sensual  pleasures  of  royalty, 
without  submitting  to  its  toils,  but,  at,  the  same 
time,  without  any  natural  inclination  to  exercise 
its  rigours.  His  profligate  expenditure  was  as 
pernicious  to  the  country  as  the  war  itself;  oil 
this  score  he  was  doomed  to  read  many  a  scold- 
ing epistle,  and  some  threatening  ones,  from 
Napoleon  ;  but,  without  these  enjoyments,  Je- 
rome could  not  have  conceived  what  royalty 
was  good  for.  The  man  did  not  even  give 
himself  the  trouble  to  learn  the  language  of 
his  kingdom.  People  feared  and  cursed  his  bro- 
ther, but  they  openly  despised  and  lajighed  at 
him.  When,  on  his  flight,  he  carried  oft*  what  he 
could  from  the  public  treasury,  they  were  thun- 
derstruck, not  at  the  meanness  of  the  thing,  but 
VOL.  i.  p 


338  CASSEL. 

at  the  possibility  of  King  Jerome  possessing  so 
much  forethought. 

The  capital  was  in  mourning  for  the  late 
Elector.  The  mourning  consisted  in  the  theatre 
being  shut,  and  in  people  expressing  their  hopes 
that  the  son  woirld  now  spend  like  a  prince  what 
the  father  had  amassed  like  a  miser.  The  late 
Elector  went  regularly  to  church,  was  no  habi- 
tual drunkard  or  profane  swearer,  and  left  be- 
hind him,  according  to  the  universal  voice,  at 
least  forty  illegitimate  children,  and  as  many 
millions  of  rix-dollars.  In  comparison  with  the 
wants  of  the  Elector  of  Hesse,  he  was  the  wealth- 
iest prince  in  Europe.  The  foundation  of  the 
treasure  had  been  laid  by  his  father,  who  hired 
out  his  troops  to  England  for  the  American 
war,  the  least  honourable  of  all  ways  in  which  a 
prince  can  fill  his  pockets.  He  himself  added  to 
the  inheritance  by  what  his  friends  call  frugality, 
and  the  great  body  of  the  people  niggardliness. 
He  turned  his  accumulating  capital  to  good  ac- 
count with  the  avidity  of  a  stock-jobber,  and 
was  a  most  successful  money  lender.  No  sort  of 
extravagance  marked  his  court  or  his  personal 
habits.  If  he  gave  his  mistresses  titles,  these 


THE  ELECTOR.  339 

cost  nothing ;  if  he  gave  them  fortunes,  it  was 
always  soberly.  Such  things,  moreover,  are  too 
much  matters  of  course  in  Germany  to  excite 
either  notice  or  dissatisfaction ;  and  even  in  this 
department,  his  subjects  justly  found  him  mo- 
derate, when  compared  with  the  royal  lustling 
from  France.  His  favourite,  the  Countess  of 

H n,  enjoys  the  reputation  of  having  often 

seduced  him  into  acts  of  liberality  towards  others, 
at  which  he  otherwise  would  have  shuddered. 
The  young  Elector,  who  has  now  succeeded, 
was  put  upon  an  allowance  which  would  have 
proved  insufficient  for  a  prince  much  more  ac- 
customed to  controul  his  passions ;  he  therefore 
got  into  debt,  and  it  has  happened,  it  is  averred, 
that  the  very  money  borrowed  from  the  father  at 
four  per  cent.,  has  been  lent  to  the  son  at  thirty. 
On  the  approach  of  the  evil  day  which  drove 
the  Elector  from  his  states,  he  had  providently 
placed  his  riches  beyond  the  usurper's  reach. 
During  his  exile,  savings  were  made  even  on  the 
interest,  in  his  frugal  household  at  Prague.  On 
his  restoration,  he  returned  to  the  old  course ; 
no  act  of  liberality  diminished  the  sum  of  his 
treasures,  and  no  relaxation  of  the  burdens 


340  CASSEL. 

which   press  down    this   impoverished    country 
dried  up  any  of  the  sources  of  his  gain.    He  im- 
mediately seized  all  the  domains  which  had  been 
sold  under  Jerome,  and  refused,  till  his  dying 
day,  to  repay  the  purchasers  a  single  farthing  of 
the  price.     I  was  struck  with  the  freedom  of  a 
Hessian  clergyman,  in  a  funeral  sermon  on  the 
Elector's  death.    Having  painted  his  merits,  such 
as  they  were,  he  said  :   "  But  truth  forbids  me 
"  to  go  farther,  and  where  so  much  was  excel- 
"  lent,  one  failing  may  be  conceded,  and  must 
"  not  be  concealed.     One  virtue,  one  most  fair 
"  and   Christian    virtue,   was  awanting.      Had 
"  there  but  been  more  generosity  and  liberality, 
"  every  eye  in  his  dominions  would  have  wept 
"  on  the  grave  of  William  I."    The  sermon  was 
not  only  preached,  but  likewise  printed. 

Still,  though  stained  with  the  most  unprincely 
of  all  failings,  he  must  have  possessed  redeeming 
qualities,  for  his  people  was  attached  to  him. 
He  was  affable  in  the  extreme ;  the  meanest  of 
his  subjects  might  approach  him  without  uneasi- 
ness, if  his  object  was  not  to  ask  money ;  and  he 
was  strictly  just,  in  so  far  as  a  prince  so  fond  of 
prerogative  could  be  just.  Above  all,  his  govern- 


THE  ELECTOR. 


inent  was  to  his  subjects  one  of  beneficence,  com- 
ing after  the  public  oppression  and  private  de- 
gradation of  the  kingdom  of  Westphalia  ;  seven 
years  of  disgraceful  and  useless  extravagance 
had  taught  them  to  regard  even  his  parsimony 
with  indulgence.  When  he  returned,  Cassel 
voluntarily  poured  out  her  citizens  to  welcome 
him  ;  thousands  crowded  from  the  remotest  cor- 
ners of  the  land  to  hail  him  on  the  frontiers  ; 
the  peasants,  in  the  extravagance  of  their  joy, 
literally  led  on  the  cavalcade  in  somersets,  and, 
on  the  shoulders  of  his  subjects,  the  old  man 
was  borne  in  tears  into  the  capital  of  his  fathers. 

The  principal  change  which  the  Hessians 
seemed  to  expect  from  the  successor  was,  that  he 
would  lead  at  least  a  more  princely  life.  "  R  —  d 
may  now  make  up  his  accounts,"  was  the  com- 
mon saying.  He  escaped  immediately  from  the 
old-fashioned  forms  and  counsellors  of  his  father, 
and  the  military  from  their  long  queues.  Some 
noble  officers  were  removed,  to  be  replaced  by 
persons  not  noble,  and  he  was  supposed  to  have 
a  strong  inclination  to  give  his  nobility  nothing 
to  do,  unless  they  chose  to  learn  something. 

In  Cassel,  it  is  as  much  a  matter  of  course  to 


342 


CASSKL. 


visit  the  Electoral  residence,  Wilhelmshohe,  as  it 
is  in  Paris  to  go  to  Versailles.  It  stands  on  the 
eastern  slope  of  a  wooded  eminence,  about  two 
miles  to  the  westward  of  the  town.  Earlier 
princes  had  chosen  the  site  and  begun  the  work, 
but  the  late  Elector  was  more  industrious  than 
them  all;  for,  next  to  making  money  and  getting 
children,  his  greatest  pleasure  was  to  build  pa- 
laces. The  main  body  of  the  palace  is  oval,  pre- 
senting a  long,  lofty,  simple  front,  without  any 
ornament,  except  an  Ionic  portico  in  the  centre. 
The  wings  are  entirely  faced  with  the  same  or- 
der, but  the  low  range  of  arches  which  connects 
them  with  the  principal  building  offends  the  eye 
grievously.  The  main  front  itself  is  too  poor ; 
the  portico,  projecting  from  the  bare  walls,  is 
good  in  itself,  but  ought  to  be  in  better  com- 
pany. Simplicity  is  an  excellent  thing,  but  only 
in  its  proper  place,  and  within  proper  bounds. 
It  is  incongruous  that  the  huge  pile  of  the  prin- 
cipal building  should  stand  so  utterly  mean  and 
unfinished-looking,  while  the  attendant  wings 
are  loaded  with  Ionic  pillars.  Even  large  masses 
of  surface,  generally  imposing  things  in  archi- 
tecture, are  not  gained,  for  it  is  frittered  down 


WILUELMSHOIIE.  343 

by  the  rows  of  small  windows.  Who  suggested 
the  barbarous  idea  of  emblazoning  the  name  of 
the  building  on  the  frieze  of  the  portico  ?  Je- 
rome changed  it  into  Napoleonshohe. 

The  well  wooded  hill  behind  is  crowned  by  u 
turretted  building,  which  takes  its  name  from  a 
colossal  statue  of  Hercules  resting  on  his  club, 
that  surmounts  it.     The  hollow  iron  statue  is  so 
capacious,  that  I  know  not  how  many  persons 
are  said  to  be  able  to  stand  comfortably  in  his 
calf,  dine  in  his  belly,  and  take  their  wine  in  his 
head.     At  his  feet  begin  the  waterworks  which 
form  the  great  attraction  of  Wilhelmshohe,  and 
have    rendered  it  the  Versailles  of  Germany. 
The  streams  are  collected  from  the  hill  within 
the   building    itself,    commence    their   artificial 
course  by  playing  an  organ,  rush  down  the  hill 
over  a  long  flight  of  broad  steps,  pour  them- 
selves into  a  capacious  basin,  issue  from  it  again 
in   various  channels,  and  form,  still  hastening 
downwards,  a  number  of  small  cascades.     At 
length  they  flow  along  a  ruined  aqueduct,  take 
all  at  once  a  leap  of  more  than  a  hundred  feet 
from  its  extremity,  where  it  terminates  on  the 
brink  of  a  precipice,  into  a  small  artificial  lake, 


344  CASSEL, 

from  whose  centre  they  are  finally  thrown  up  to 
the  height  of  a  hundred  and  thirty  feet  in  a  mag- 
nificent jet.  There  is  much  taste  and  ingenuity 
in  many  of  the  details ;  but,  to  enjoy  the  full  ef- 
fect, one  ought  to  see  them  only  in  the  moment 
of  their  full  operation.  He  ought  neither  to  see 
the  dry  channels,  the  empty  aqueducts,  the  plas- 
tered precipices,  the  chiselled  rocks,  and  the  mi- 
niature imitations  of  columnar  basalt,  nor  wit- 
ness any  of  the  various  notes  of  preparation,  the 
shutting  of  valves  and  turning  of  cocks ;  all  these 
things  injure  the  illusion. 

Though  Jerome  inhabited  the  palace,  and 
even  built  a  theatre,  in  which  his  own  box, 
where  he  could  see  without  being  seen,  is  fitted 
up  with  the  most  useless  voluptuousness,  and 
never  fails  to  suggest  many  degrading  stories  of 
the  effeminate  debauchee,  the  French  did  a 
great  deal  of  mischief  in  the  grounds.  From 
mere  wanton  insolence,  they  broke  down  many 
parts  of  the  stone  ledge  which  ran  along  the 
aqueduct  internally,  as  well  as  the  iron  railing 
that  guarded  it  without,  and  displaced  from  the 
grottoes  various  water  deities  and  piles  of  fishes. 
The  latter,  however,  do  not  seem  to  have  de- 


THE  ARTS.  345 

served  any  mercy,  if  we  may  judge  from  one  in 
which  a  base  of  tortoises  and  lobsters  supports  a 
pyramid  of  cod-fish,  dolphins,  and,  it  may  be, 
whales,  coarsely  cut  in  coarse  stone. 

The    Marble    Bath,    and   other   edifices   of 
Landgrave  Charles,  are  in  a  much  more  compli- 
cated and  ostentatious  style  than  that  which  was 
afterwards  introduced  in  the  museum,  and  trans- 
ferred to  Wilhelrnshohe.  The  marblebath,  though 
it  really  contains  a  bath,  was  merely  a  pretext  for 
spending  money  and  marble.     It  is  filled  with 
statues,  and  the  walls,  where  they  are  not  coat- 
ed with  party-coloured  marbles,  are  covered  with 
reliefs  as  large  as  life.     All  the  sculptures  are 
works  of  Monnot,  a  wholesale  artist  of  the  ear- 
lier part  of  the  last  century.     He  had  studied 
and  long  worked  in  Rome,   and  practice  had 
given  him  the  art  of  cutting  marble  into  human 
shapes ;  but  he  wanted  invention,  no  less  than 
elevation  and  purity  of  taste.     His  forms  have 
neither  dignity  nor  grace.     They  cannot  be  said 
altogether   to    want    expression ;    Daphne   and 
Arethusa  pursued  by  Apollo  and  Alpheus  look 
just  like   ladies  in  a  great  fright,  and   Calista 
hangs  her  head  like  a  girl  doing  penance ;  but 
p2 


346  CASSEL. 

the  expression  is  common,  not  to  say  vulgar. 
The  gross  caricature  of  the  Dutch  painters  is  in 
its  place  in  an  alehouse,  but  is  intolerable  in  a 
classical  group  of  sculpture.  Yet  the  fallen  Ca- 
lista  is  sculptured  in  all  the  grossness  of  her 
shame;  one  of  the  attendant  nymphs  presses  her 
finger  firmly  on  the  ocular  proof  of  the  fair  one^s 
frailty,  and  looks  at  Diana  with  a  waggish  vul- 
garity, which  the  pure  and  offended  goddess 
would  not  have  tolerated  on  so  delicate  an  occa- 
sion. 

The  electoral  gallery  of  pictures  contains 
many  valuable  paintings;  but  I  can  say  nothing 
about  them,  for  both  times  I  endeavoured  to  see 
them,  the  Herr  Inspector  was  engaged  at  court, 
although,  on  the  second  occasion,  He  had  himself 
fixed  the  hour.  To  be  sure,  if  a  man  is  called 
to  court,  he  must  go;  but  it  must  be  a  very 
thoughtless  court  which  allows  the  visiting  of  a 
public  gallery  to  depend  on  the  incidental  occu- 
pations of  a  keeper.  It  ought  either  to  be  com- 
mitted to  a  person  who  shall  have  no  other  oc- 
cupation, or,  if  enough  of  money  cannot  be  spar- 
ed from  other  pleasures  to  give  such  a  person  a 
suitable  recompence,  let,  at  least,  a  fixed  portion 


THE  ARTS.  347 

of  his  time  be  dedicated  to  this  purpose.  More- 
over, he  is  paid  in  reality  by  a  heavy  douceur  lev- 
ied on  the  curious.  The  Elector,  that  his  mu- 
seums, and  galleries,  and  gardens,  and  waterfalls, 
might  be  cheaply  kept,  intrusted  them  to  per- 
sons always  numerous,  and  authorized  them  to 
tax  the  visitors.  In  the  north  of  Germany  you 
often  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  palm  of 
a  councillor  of  state  (Hqf-ratli)  extended  for  his 
half  guinea/  One  has  riot  much  reason  to  grum- 
ble at  this,  so  long  as  it  does  not  rise  to  extor- 
tion, though  it  is  meanness  when  compared  with 
the  liberality  of  the  Italian  capitals,  or  even  of 
Dresden  and  Vienna ;  but  it  is  vexatious  that  his 
gratification  should  be  impeded  because  a  public 
officer  is  allowed  or  ordered  to  attend  to  some- 
thing else  than  his  proper  duty. 

A 11  the  pictures  in  theCatholic  church  are  from 
the  pencil  of  Tischbein,  (the  father,)*  who  has 
been  for  Cassel  in  painting  what  Monnot  was  in 

•  Tischbein,  the  son,  to  whom  Gothe  has  addressed 
some  eulogistic  sonnets,  was  a  much  superior  artist.  He 
devoted  himself  in  Italy  to  the  study  of  the  antique.  The 
designs  which  he  sketched  for  an  edition  of  Homer  are 
full  of  spirit. 


348  CAssEt, 

sculpture,  equally  industrious,  and  still  less  meri- 
torious.    His  pictures  have  no  character ;   the 
forms  are  clumsy  and  incorrect ;  the  expression 
is  devoid  of  soul  and  meaning  ;  the  attitudes  are 
stiff;  the  colouring  is  weak  and  watery.     His 
Christs  are  in  general  the  most  vulgar  looking 
people,  and  the  angel  who  presents  the  cup  in 
the  Agony  is  the  most   familiar  looking  person- 
age in  the  history  of  painting.     Although  the 
Italian  masters  had  perhaps  no  good  authority 
for  always  making  the  apostle  John  a  comely 
youth,  with  luxuriant  hair  and  a  glowing  coun- 
tenance, yet  they  were  possibly  as  much  in  the 
right  as  historians,  and  assuredly  much  more  in 
the  right  as  painters  than  Tischbein,  when  he 
made  him  an  old,  and  what  is  worse,  an  ugly 
man  in  the  Crucifixion.     Sacristans  are  not  al- 
ways good  authority  ;  therefore,  I  do  not  believe 
that  Albert  Diirer  ever  put  pencil  to  the  eight 
small  paintings  in  the  Sacristy  representing  the 
scenes  of  the  Passion.     Very  old  they  certainly 
are,  older  than  Diirer ;  but  Diirer  would  never 
have  indulged  in  such  inaccurate  drawing,  such 
gross  exaggerations  of  a  sort  of  nature  which,  to 
please  in  painting,  ought  rather  to  be  mitigated. 


THE  ARTS.  349 

The  soldiers  attending  the  Crucifixion,  and  the 
executioners  in  the  Flagellation,  are  downright 
caricatures,  with  huge  lumpish  noses,  like  balls 
of  flesh  stuck  on  the  upper  lip.  Such  pictures, 
however  eagerly  they  may  be  hunted  out,  can 
have  no  value  but  as  curiosities  in  the  history  of 
the  art. 


350 


CHAPTER  VII. 

GOTTINGEN. 

Ei !  grass'  euch  Gott,  Collegia  ! 

Wic  steht  ilir  in  Parade  da  ! 

Ihr  dnmpfen  Sale,  gross  und  klein, 

Jetzt  kriegt  ilir  mich  nicht  mehr  hinein. 

Scfwab. 

THE  territory  of  Hanover  approaches  nearly 
to  the  walls  of  Cassel.  The  rich  vallies  through 
which  the  Fulda  flows  give  promises  of  beauty 
and  fertility,  on  which  the  traveller  afterwards 
thinks  with  regret  when  toiling  through  the 
sands  in  the  northern  part  of  the  kingdom.  At 
Munden,  a  small,  but  apparently  thriving  town, 
the  Fulda  and  Werra,  issuing  from  opposite 
dells,  unite  and  form  the  Weser,  which  is  al- 
ready covered  with  the  small  craft  that  carries 
on  the  trade  with  Bremen.  -The  lofty  summits 


GOTTINGEN.  351 

of  the  Harz  now  rise  in  the  distance,  and  you 
enter 


the  U- 

niversity  of  Gottingeu. 

Though  the  youngest  of  the  German  univer- 
sities of  reputation,  excepting  Berlin,  Gottingen 
is  by  far  the  most  celebrated  and  flourishing. 
Miinchausen,  the  honest  and  able  minister  of 
George  II.,  who  founded  it  in  1735,  watched 
over  it  with  the  anxiety  of  a  parent.  He  acted 
in  a  spirit  of  the  utmost  liberality,  which,  to  the 
honour  of  the  Hanoverian  government,  has 
never  been  departed  from,  both  by  not  being 
niggardly  where  any  really  useful  purpose  was 
to  be  gained,  and  by  treating  the  university  it- 
self with  confidence  and  indulgence.  He  acted, 
moreover,  in  that  prudent  spirit  which  does  not 
attempt  too  much  at  once.  How  many  splendid 
schemes  have  failed,  because  their  parents,  ex- 
pecting to  see  them  start  up  at  once  in  the  vi- 
gour of  youth,  like  Minerva  ready  armed  from 
the  head  of  Jupiter,  had  not  patience  to  guide 
them  while  they  tottered  through  the  years  of 
helpless  infancy.  Had  Miinchausen  foreseen 


352  GOTTINGEV. 

what  the  expence  of  the  university  would  in 
time  amount  to,  he  probably  would  never  have 
founded  it.  The  original  annual  expenditure 
was  about  fifteen  thousand  rix-dollars,  (L.  2500,) 
it  now  amounts  to  six  times  that  sum.  The 
library  alone  consumes  annually  nearly  one-half 
of  the  whole  original  expence. 

Gottingen  is  manned  with  thirty-six  ordinary 
professors,    three    theological,    seven   juridical, 
eight  medical,  including  botany,  chemistry,  and 
natural  history;  the  remaining  eighteen  form  the 
philosophical   faculty.       Drawing  is  a  regular 
chair  in  the  philosophical  faculty,  and  stands  be- 
tween mineralogy  and  astronomy.  The  fencing- 
master  and  dancing-master  are  not  so  highly 
honoured,  but  still  they  are  public  functionaries, 
and  receive  salaries  from  government.  The  con- 
fusion is  increased  by  that  peculiarity  of  the  Ger- 
man universities  which  allows  a  professor  to  give 
lectures  on  any  topic  he  pleases,  however  little  it 
may  be  connected  with  the  particular  department 
to  which  he  has  been  appointed.     Every  profes- 
sor may  interfere,  if  he  chooses,  with  the  pro- 
vinces of  his  colleagues.     The  Professor  of  Na- 
tural History  must  lecture  on  Natural  History, 
12 


COMPETITION  OF  PROFESSORS.  35£ 

but  he  may  likewise  teach  Greek  ;  the  Professor 
of  Latin  must  teach  Latin,  but,  if  he  chooses, 
he  may  lecture  on  Mathematics.     Thus  it  just 
becomes  a  practical  question,  who  is  held  to  be 
the  more  able  instructor ;  and,  if  the  mathema- 
tical prelections  of  a  Professor  of  Greek  be  rec- 
koned better  than  those  of  the  person  regularly 
appointed  to  teach  the  science,  the  latter  must 
be  content  to  lose  his  scholars  and  his  fees.     It 
is  \hefacully,  not  the  science  to  which  a  man  is 
appointed,  that  bounds  his  flight.     This  is  the 
theory  of  the  thing,  and  on  this  are  founded  the 
frequent  complaints  that,  in  the  German  univer- 
sities, the  principle  of  competition  has  been  car- 
ried preposterously  far.     Fortunately^  the  most 
important  sciences  are  of  such  an  extent,  that  a 
man  who  makes  himself  able  to  teach  any  one  of 
them  well,  can  scarcely  hope  to  teach  any  other 
tolerably  ;  yet  the  interference  of  one  teacher 
with  another  is  by  no  means  so  unfrequent  as  we 
might  imagine  ;  there  are  always  certain  "  stars 
"  shooting  wildly  from  their  spheres.1'    It  would 
not  be  easy  to  tell,  for  example,  who  is  Professor 
of  Greek,  or  Latin,  or  Oriental  Literature  ;  you 
Avill  generally  find  two  or  three  engaged  in  them 


351  GOTTIXGEN. 

all.  A  Professor  of  Divinity  may  be  allowed 
to  explain  the  Epistles  of  Paul,  for  his  theologi- 
cal interpretations  must  be  considered  as  some- 
thing quite  distinct  from  the  labours  of  the  phi- 
lologist; but,  in  the  philosophical  faculty,  where, 
in  regard  to  languages,  philology  alone  is  the 
object,  I  found  at  Gottingen  no  fewer  than  four 
professors  armed  with  Greek,  two  with  Latin, 
and  two  with  Oriental  Literature.  One  draws 
up  the  Gospel  of  John,  and  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles ;  a  second  opposes  to  him  the  first 
three  Evangelists,  the  fourth  being  already  en- 
listed by  his  adversary ;  the  third  takes  them 
both  in  flank  with  the  Works  and  Days  of 
Hesiod ;  while  the  fourth  skirmishes  round 
them  in  all  directions,  and  cuts  off  various  strag- 
glers, by  practical  lucubrations  in  Greek  syntax. 
Now,  if  people  think  that  they  will  learn  Greek 
to  better  purpose  from  Professor  Eichorn's  Acts 
of  the  Apostles,  than  from  Professor  Tyschen's 
three  Gospels,  the  latter  must  just  dispense  with 
his  students  and  rix-dollars ; 

When  Greek  meets  Greek,  then  comes  the  tug  of  war. 
The  former  gentleman,  again,  leads  on  orien- 


BLUMENBACH.  355 

tal  literature  under  the  banner  of  the  Book  of 
Job  ;  the  latter  takes  the  field  undismayed,  and 
opposes  to  him  the  Prophecies  of  Isaiah.  But 
Professor  Eichorn  immediately  unmasks  a  bat- 
tery of  "  Prelections  in  Arabian  ;""  and  Pro- 
fessor Tyschen,  apparently  exhausted  of  regular 
troops,  throws  forward  a  course  of  lectures  on 
the  "  Ars  Uiplomatica,"  to  cover  his  retreat. 

In  Latin,  too,  one  professor  starts  the  Satires 
of  Persius  against  those  of  Horace,  named  by 
another,  and  Tully's  Offices  against  the  Ars 
Poetica.  The  one  endeavours  to  jostle  the 
other  by  adding  Greek ;  but  they  are  both 
Yorkshire,  and  the  other  adds  Greek  too.  The 
juridical  faculty  of  Gottingen  contains  seven 
learned  professors.  Of  these  no  fewer  than 
three  were  reading  on  Justinian's  Institutes  in 
the  same  session,  two  of  them,  moreover,  using 
the  same  text-book.  Two  of  them  likewise  lec- 
tured on  the  form  of  process  in  civil  cases,  both 
using  the  same  text-book. 

O 

Gottingen,  though  not  yet  an  hundred  years 
old,  has  already  exhibited  more  celebrated  men, 
and  done  more  for  the  progress  of  knowledge  in 
Germany,  than  any  other  similar  institution  in 


556  GOTTINGEJf. 

the  country.     Meyer,  Mosheim,  Michaelis,  and 
Heyne,  are  names  not  easily  eclipsed ;  and,  in 
the  present  day,   Blumenbach,    Gauss,   whom 
many  place  second  only  to  La  Place,   Hugo, 
Heeren,  and  Sartorius,  fully  support  the  pre-emi- 
nence of  the   Georgia  Augusta.     Europe  lias 
placed  Blumenbach  at  the  head  of  her  physiolo- 
gists ;  but,  with  all  his  profound  learning,  he  is 
in  every  thing  the  reverse  of  the  dull,  plodding, 
cumbersome  solidity,  which  we  have  learned  to 
consider  as  inseparable  from  a  German  savaiit^ 
. — a  most   ignorant   and    unfounded  prejudice. 
Gothe  is  the  greatest  poet,  Wolff  the  greatest 
philologist,  and  Blumenbach  the  greatest  natu- 
ral historian  of  Germany  ;  yet  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  find  three  more  jocular  and  entertaining 
men.     Blumenbach  has  not  an  atom  of  academi- 
cal pedantry  or  learned  obscurity  ;  his  conversa- 
tion is  a  series  of  shrewd  and  mirthful  remarks 
on  any  thing  that  comes  uppermost,  and  such 
likewise,  I  have  heard  it  said,  is  sometimes  his 
lecture.     Were  it  not  for  the  chaos  of  skulls, 
skeletons,  mummies,  and  other  materials  of  his 
art,  with  which  he  is  surrounded,  you  would  not 
easily  discover,  unless  you  brought  him  pur- 


BLUMENBACH.  357 

posely  on  the  subject,  that  he  had  studied  na- 
tural history.     He  sits  among  all  sorts  of  odd 
things,  which  an  ordinary  person  would  call  lum- 
ber, and  which  even  many  of  those  who  drive  his 
own  science  could  not  make  much  of ;  for  it  is 
one  of  Blumenbach's  excellencies,  that  he  con- 
trives to  make  use  of  every  thing,  and  to  find 
proofs  and  illustrations  where  no  other  person 
would  think  of  looking  for  them.     By  the  side 
of  a  drawing  which  represented  some  Botocuda 
Indians,  with  faces  like  baboons,  cudgelling  each 
other,  hung  a  portrait  of  the  beautiful  Agnes  of 
Mansfeld.     A  South  American  skull,  the  lowest 
degree  of  human  conformation,   grinned   at  a 
Grecian  skull,  which  the  professor  reckons  the 
perfection    of    crania.        Here    stood   a   whole 
mummy  from  the  Canary  Islands,  there  half  a 
one  from  the  Brazils,  with  long  strings  through 
its  nose,  and  covered  with  gaudy  feathers,  like 
Papageno  in  the  Magic  Flute.     Here  is  stuck  a 
negroes  head,  there  lies  a  Venus,  and  yonder  re- 
clines, in  a  corner,  a  contemplative  skeleton  with 
folded  hands.     Yet  it  is  only  necessary  to  hear 
the  most  passing  remarks  of  the  professor,  as 
you  stumble  after  him  through  this  apparent 


358  GOTTINGEN. 

confusion,  to  observe  how  clearly  all  that  may 
be  learned  from  it  is  arranged  in  his  head,  in  his 
own  scientific  combinations.  The  only  thing 
that  presented  external  order,  was  a  very  com- 
plete collection  of  skulls,  showing  the  fact,  by 
no  means  a  new  one,  that  there  is  a  gradual  pro- 
gression in  the  form  of  the  skull,  from  apes,  up 
to  the  most  generally  received  models  of  human 
beauty.  "Do  you  see  these  horns  ?"  said  he, 
searching  among  a  heap  of  oddities,  and  draw- 
ing forth  three  horns,  "  they  were  once  worn  by 
"  a  woman.  She  happened  to  fall  and  break 
'*  her  head  ;  from  the  wound  sprouted  this  long 
"  horn ;  it  continued  to  grow  for  thirty  years, 
"  and  then  she  cast  it ;  it  dropped  off.  In  its 
"  place  came  a  second  one ;  but  it  did  not  grow 
"  so  long,  and  dropped  off  too.  Then  this 
"  third  one,  all  on  the  same  spot ;  but  the  poor 
"  woman  died  while  the  third  was  growing,  and 
"  I  had  it  cut  from  the  corpse.11  They  were 
literally  three  genuine  horns.  The  last  two  are 
short,  thick,  and  nearly  straight ;  but  the  first 
is  about  ten  inches  long,  and  completely  twisted, 
like  the  horn  of  a  ram.  It  is  round  and  rough, 
of  a  brownish  colour,  and  fully  half  an  inch  in 


SCIENTIFIC  COLLECTIONS.  359 

diameter  towards  the  root.  All  three  are  hol- 
low, at  least  at  the  base.  The  termination  is  - 
blunt  and  rounded.  Other  instances  of  the 
same  thing  have  been  known,  but  always  in  wom- 
en ;  and  Blumenbach  says  it  has  been  ascer- 
tained by  chemical  analysis,  that  such  horns 
have  a  greater  affinity,  in  their  composition, 
with  the  horns  of  the  rhinoceros,  than  with 
those  of  any  other  animal. 

The  pre-eminence  of  Gottingen  is  equally 
founded  in  the  teachers  and  the  taught.  A 
Gottingen  chair  is  the  highest  reward  to  which 
a  German  savant  aspires,  and  to  study  at  Got- 
tingen is  the  great  wish  of  a  German  youth. 
There  are  good  reasons  for  this,  both  with  the 
one  and  the  other.  The  professor  is  more  com- 
fortable, in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view,  than  any 
where  else,  and  possesses  more  facilities  for  push- 
ing on  his  science ;  the  student  finds  a  more 
gentlemanly  tone  of  manners  than  elsewhere, 
and  has  within  his  reach  better  opportunities  of 
studying  to  good  purpose.  This  arises  from 
the  attention  which  the  government  has  bestow- 
ed to  render  the  different  helps  to  study,  the 
library,  the  observatory,  the  collections  of  phy- 


360  GOTTINGEN. 

sical  instruments,  and  the  hospitals,  not  as  cost- 
ly, but  as  useful  as  possible.     The  government 
of  Hanover  has  never  adopted  the  principle  of 
bribing  great  men  by  great  salaries, — a  principle 
naturally  acted  on  in  those  universities  which  have 
no  recommendation  except  the  fame  of  the  teach- 
ers.    It  has  chosen  rather  to  form  and  organize 
those  means  of  study  which,  in  the  hands  of  a 
man  of  average  talent,  (and  such  are  always  to 
be  had,)  are  much  more  generally  and  effectively 
useful,  than  the  prelections  of  a  person  of  more 
distinguished  genius  when  deprived  of  this  indis- 
pensable assistance.     The  professors  themselves 
do  not  ascribe  the  rapidly  increasing  prosperity 
of  the  university  so  much  to  the  reputation  of 
distinguished  individuals  who  have  filled  so  many 
of  its  chairs,  as  to  the  pains  which  have  been 
taken  to  render  these  means  of  improvement 
more  perfect  than  they  are  to  be  found  united  in 
any  sister  seminary.     "  Better  show-collections," 
said  Professor  Heeren,  very  sensibly,  "  may  be 
"  found  elsewhere  ;  but  the  great  recommenda- 
"  tion  of  ours  is,  that  they  have  been  made  for 
"  use,  not  for  show ;  that  the  student  finds  in 
"  them  every  thing  he  would  wish  to  see  and 


THE  LIBRARY.  361 

t;  handle  in  his  science.  This  is  the  true  reason 
"  'why  the  really  studious  prefer  Gottingen,  and 
"  this  will  always  secure  our  pre-eminence,  inde- 
"  pendent  of  the  fame  of  particular  teachers ; 
"  the  latter  is  a  passing  and  changeable  thing, 
"  the  former  is  permanent." 

Above  all,  the  library  is  a  great  attraction 
both  for  the  teacher  and  the  learner.  It  is  not 
only  the  most  complete  among  the  universities, 
but  there  are  very  few  royal  or  public  collections 
in  Germany  which  can  rival  it  in  real  utility. 
It  is  not  rich  in  manuscripts,  and  many  surpass 
it  in  typographical  rarities,  and  specimens  of  ty- 
pographical luxury ;  but  none  contains  so  great 
a  number  of  really  useful  books  in  any  given 
branch  of  knowledge.  The  principle  on  which 
they  proceed  is,  to  collect  the  solid  learning  and 
literature  of  the  world,  not  the  curiosities  and 
splendours  of  the  printing  art.  If  they  have 
twenty  pounds  to  spend,  instead  of  buying  some 
very  costly  edition  of  one  book,  they  very 
wisely  buy  ordinary  editions  of  four  or  five. 
When  Heyne  undertook  the  charge  of  the  li- 
brary in  1763,  it  contained  sixty  thousand  vo- 
lumes. He  established  the  prudent  plan  of  in' 

VOL.  I.  Q 


362  GOTTINGEN. 

crease,  which  has  been  followed  out  with  so 
much  success,  and  the  number  is  now  nearly  two 
hundred  thousand.  They  complain  much  of  the 
expence  of  English  books.  No  compulsory  mea- 
sures are  taken  to  fill  the  shelves,  except  that 
the  booksellers  of  Gottingen  itself  must  deliver 
a  copy  of  every  work  they  publish. 

The  command  of  such  a  library  (and  the  ma- 
nagement is  most  liberal)  is  no  small  recom- 
mendation for  the  studious,  whether  he  be  teach- 
er or  pupil ;  but,  in  this  case,  it  is  perhaps  of 
still  more  importance  to  the  professors  in  a  pe- 
cuniary point  of  view.  The  thousand  or  twelve 
hundred  pounds  which  government  pays  every 
year  in  booksellers1  accounts,  cannot  be  reckon- 
ed an  additional  expence.  The  professors  them- 
selves say,  that,  without  it,  it  would  be  necessary 
to  lay  out  as  much,  if  not  more,  in  augmenting 
their  salaries  ;  for,  if  they  had  to  purchase  their 
own  books,  they  could  not  afford  to  labour  on 
salaries  varying  from  a  hundred  and  fifty  to  two 
hundred  pounds.  Meiners  calculated,  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  present  century,  that  the  saving 
thus  made  on  salaries  was  at  least  equal  to  the 
whole  expence  of  the  library.  In  other  univer- 


THE  WIDOWS'  FUND.  363 

sides,  I  have  often  heard  the  professors  complain 
bitterly  of  the  expence  of  new  books,  to  which 
they  were  subjected  by  the  poverty  of  their  col- 
lege library.  They  have  reason  to  complain, 
when  we  think  of  the  number  of  new  books 
which  a  public  teacher  in  any  department  finds 
it  prudent  to  read,  and,  to  a  certain  extent,  uses, 
although  there  may  be  very  few  of  them  which 
he  would  wish  permanently  to  possess.  If  the 
Professor  of  History,  for  example,  pays  thirty 
rix-dollars  for  Hallam's  Middle  Ages,  or  a  Lec- 
turer on  Antiquities  pays  fifty  rix-dollars  for 
Belzoni's  Egyptian  Researches,  these  sums  are 
most  important  drawbacks  on  the  salary  of  a 
German  professor,  yet  these  are  only  single  books 
in  a  single  language.  Now,  a  professor  of  Halle 
or  Jena  must  either  dispense  with  the  books  al- 
together, or  pay  for  them  out  of  his  own  pocket. 
His  brother  of  Gottingen  has  them  at  his  com- 
mand without  laying  out  a  farthing.  Hence 
it  is,  that  professors  in  other  universities  always 
set  down  the  library  as  one  great  recommenda- 
tion of  a  Gottingen  chair. 

Another  is  the  widows'  fund,  founded  by  pub- 
lic authority,  like  that  of  the  Church  of  Scotland, 


364  GOTTINGEN. 

and  still  more  flourishing.  Though  the  Hano- 
verian government  has  never  thought  it  prudent 
to  procure  or  retain  a  distinguished  man  by  an 
invidious  excess  of  salary  above  his  brethren,  it 
would  be  at  once  ignorant  and  unjust  to  suppose 
that  it  has  been  in  any  way  niggardly  towards  the 
learned  persons  who  fill  the  chairs  of  Gottingen. 
The  regular  salaries  are  from  twelve  to  fifteen 
hundred  rix-dollars,  exclusive  of  the  fees.  Tak- 
ing the  salaries  in  the  mass  at  L.  200  Sterling, 
which  is  below  the  average,  they  are  higher  than 
the  salaries  of  any  other  German  university,  ex- 
cepting, perhaps,  one  or  two  at  Berlin.  Savig- 
ny,  for  example,  Professor  of  Law  at  Berlin,  is 
said  to  have  been  gained  for  the  Prussian  capi- 
tal by  the  highest  salary  that  ever  was  paid  in 
Germany.  The  professors  of  Gottingen  have, 
moreover,  various  other  small  sources  of  gain,  or 
rather  of  saving.  Thus  they  very  soon  discover- 
ed that  Gottingen  beer  did  not  agree  with  their 
stomachs,  and  obtained  the  privilege  of  im- 
porting foreign  beer,  free  of  duty.  At  Altorf, 
before  its  abolition,  the  professors,  in  virtue  of  a 
similar  privilege,  were  regular  wine  dealers.  The 
widows'  fund,  however,  is  peculiar  to  Gottingen, 


THE  WIDOWS*  FUND.  365 

and  recommends  its  chairs  to  the  learned  even 
more  than  its  library  and  fees.  In  no  country  does 
the  scanty  recompence  of  a  learned  man  threat- 
en more  helpless  destitution  to  a  family  which 
he  may  leave  behind  him,  than  in  Germany.  The 
widows'  fund  is  as  old  as  the  university  itself, 
and  originated  with  Miinchausen.  The  capital 
was  originally  only  a  thousand  rix-dollars ;  at  the 
end  of  the  last  century  it  amounted  to  fifty-one 
thousand,  chiefly  matle  up  of  benefactions  from 
the  government  and  private  individuals,  but 
partly,  likewise,  from  the  savings  of  the  accu- 
mulating interest.  The  interest  of  the  capital, 
with  the  yearly  payments  made  by  the  profes- 
sors, forms  the  fund  from  which  the  families  of 
deceased  professors  are  pensioned.  The  profes- 
sors are  not  bound  to  pay  this  annual  tax;  they 
have  their  choice  to  pay  the  money,  and  have  the 
benefit  of  the  fund,  or  keep  the  money  in  their 
pockets,  and  leave  a  family  in  starvation.  The 
rate  of  allowance  fixed  at  the  beginning  of  the 
present  century  was  a  hundred  and  fifty-six  rix- 
dollars  (L.24)  yearly  to  the  widow,  or,  if  she  had 
predeceased,  to  the  children.  'For  every  five 
thousand  rix-dollars  added  to  the  capital,  whether 


366  GOT  TIN  GEN. 

by  bequests  or  an  excess  of  ordinary  revenue, 
ten  are  added  to  the  pension  of  every  widow. 
On  the  death  of  the  widow,  the  pension  is  conti- 
nued till  the  youngest  child  reaches  the  age  of 
twenty.  The  burdens  have  always  been  so 
few,  that  the  revenue  of  the  fund  has  not  only 
been  able  to  discharge  them,  but  a  part  of  it, 
sometimes  two-thirds,  has  always  been  added 
to  the  capital,  which  is  thus  rapidly  increas- 
ing. 

Medical  science  is  the  department  in  which 
the  fame  of  Gottingen  is  least  certain,  not  from 
any  want  of  talent  on  the  part  of  the  teachers, 
but  solely  from  the  want  of  extensive  hospitals, 
these  indispensable  requisites  to  medical  educa- 
tion, which  only  large  towns  can  furnish.  Got- 
tingen, small  as  it  is,  contains  three ;  but  they 
are  necessarily  on  a  diminutive  scale.  One  of 
them  is  set  apart  for  surgical  operations ;  ano- 
ther for  clinical  lectures  ;  the  third  belongs  to  a 
class  which,  in  a  German  university  town,  can 
always  reckon  on  being  more  regularly  supplied 
than  any  other  ;  it  is  a  lying-in  hospital.  There 
are  twelve  hundred  students  in  Gottingen,  and, 
on  an  average,  twenty  mothers  in  the  hospital. 


HOSPITALS.  367 

On  one  side,  a  Magdalene  greets  the  eyes  of  the 
suffering  sinner,  as  if  to  remind  her  of  what  she 
is ;  and,  on  the  other,  a  bad  copy  of  the  Madon- 
na della  Sediola,  as  if  to  comfort  her  with  the 
idea  of  what  she  may  become.   It  would  be  awk- 
ward to  inquire  how  far  the  students  themselves 
contribute  to  the  welfare  of  this  establishment, 
by  providing  it  with  patients ;   though  there  is 
no  doubt,  that  they  are  its  best  friends,  and  the 
greatest  enemies  of  the  public  morals.     It  has 
often  happened,  that  the  father  has  been  the  first, 
as  an  obstetric  tyro,  to  hear  the  cry  of  his  child  ; 
and  it  would  happen  more  frequently,  were  it  not 
that,  when  he  does  not  long  for  the  honours  of 
irregular  paternity,  the  mother,  who  has  sold 
herself,  is  easily  bribed  to  buy  another  father. 
Where  so  many  young  men  are  assembled,  free 
from  all  controul,  except  a  very  imperfect  aca- 
demical controul,  and  surrounded  by  such  crea- 
tures as  minister  in  domestic  services  in  a  uni- 
versity town,  the  consequences  to  morality  will 
always  be  the  same ;  and  assuredly  the  principles 
of  German  Burschen  are  the  very  last  that  would 
struggle  against  the  corruption.     It  would  be 
nothing  out  of  the  way  of  their  style  of  thinking 


368  GOTTINGEN. 

to  hear  them  maintain,  that  it  is  a  greater  enor- 
mity to  let  the  lying-in  hospital  go  to  ruin  for 
want  of  patients,  than  to  debauch  innocence ; 
they  would  defend  the  irregular  manufacture  of 
living  bodies  on  precisely  the  same  principles,  on 
which  their  medical  brethren,  among  ourselves, 
defend  the  theft  of  dead  ones.  Still  it  is  true, 
that,  among  the  females  whom  the  German 
Burschen  come  across  in  their  academic  towns, 
there  is  little  innocence  to  debauch.  The  laun- 
dresses, in  particular,  a  set  of  persons  who  claim- 
ed the  severe  eye  of  the  praetor  much  more  than 
any  nautae  or  cauponcs,  use  the  charms  of  their 
subaltern  Naiads  as  a  regular  trap  to  catch  cus- 
tomers ;  she  who  has  the  prettiest  is  sure  to  re- 
quire the  most  extensive  bleaching  green.  At 
first,  the  effects  of  all  this  were  melancholy  at 
Gottingen ;  for  these  creatures  often  contrived  to 
seduce  silly  Burschen,  who  were  worth  angling 
for,  into  marriage ;  but  the  government  took 
such  severe  measures  against  them,  above  all,  by 
declaring  such  marriages  null,  that  they  no 
longer  attempt  it,  and  gather  their  gains  in  a  less 
ambitious  course.  Gottingen  is  no  worse  than 
its  sister  universities,  and  matters  have  greatly 


THE  STUDENTS.  369 

mended  during  the  last  twenty  years ;  at  least 
they  say  so  themselves.  The  same  mother,  how- 
ever, has  been  known  to  appear  four  different 
times  in  the  hospital,  in  four  successive  years,  in 
honour  of  four  different  Burschen ;  and  even  no- 
ble equipages  have  occasionally  deposited  mask- 
ed fair  ones,  for  a  time,  in  this  house  of  doubtful 
reputation. 

The  number  of  students  has  been  regularly  on 
the  increase  since  the  termination  of  the  war, 
partly  from  the  increased  extent  of  'the  kingdom, 
partly  from  the  abolition  of  the  neighbouring 
university  of  Helmstadt,  (Brunswick  and  Meck- 
lenburgh  having  very  wisely  agreed  to  recognize 
Gottingen  as  the  university  of  these  duchies,) 
and  partly  from  the  proscription  of  Jena  which 
followed  the  murder  of  Kotzebue.  But  the 
principal  reason  of  this  increase  is  the  rising 
character  of  the  university  itself,  which,  besides 
attracting  foreigners,  prevents  the  Hanoverians 
from  going  to  study  elsewhere.  More  than  one 
half  of  the  whole  number  are  foreigners,  that  is, 
not  natives  of  the  kingdom  of  Hanover.  The 
number  of  foreigners  from  states  not  German  is 
naturally  small,  in  comparison  with  those  who  be- 
ft* 


370 


GOTTINGEN. 


long  to  other  German  states.  In  1821,  out  of 
nearly  seven  hundred,  who  were  not  natives  of 
the  kingdom,  not  a  hundred  were  from  countries 
foreign  to  Germany.  Swiss  and  Greeks  were 
the  most  numerous,  then  Russians  and  English- 
men. While  there  were  upwards  of  a  hundred 
young  men  from  Prussia,  notwithstanding  the 
well-earned  reputation  of  Berlin,  there  was  only 
one  solitary  subject  of  Austria.  The  Austrian 
Eagle  is  most  jealous  of  her  young  gazing  on 
other  suns  than  her  own.  Five  Hungarians,  who 
had  come  to  Gb'ttingen  to  learn  something,  were 
actually  ordered  away  by  an  express  command 
from  Vienna,  and  found  it  necessary  to  obey. 

The  proportion  of  lawyers  among  the  students 
is  extravagantly  large ;  more  than  one  half  of  the 
whole  number  were  matriculated  in  the  juridical 
faculty.  The  reason  of  this  is,  that,  from  the 
mode  of  internal  arrangement  common  to  all  the 
German  states>  there  is  an  immense  number  of 
small  public  offices  connected  with  the  admini- 
stration of  justice,  to  which,  trifling  as  the  com- 
petence they  afford  may  be,  numbers  of  young 
men  look  forward  as  their  destination,  and  which 
require  a  legal  education,  or,  at  least,  what  passes 

11 


LAW.  371 

for  a  legal  education.  Under  the  system  of 
patrimonial  jurisdiction,  which,  though  clipped 
here  and  there,  still  remains  in  its  essence  as  well 
as  in  its  form,  every  other  landed  proprietor 
must  have  a  judge,  or,  if  his  estates  be  disjoin- 
ed, two  or  three  judges,  to  administer  justice,  in 
the  first  instance,  to  all  who  dwell  within  the  li- 
mits of  his  property.  The  crown,  too,  requires 
a  host  of  little  praetors  of  the  same  kind  on  its 
domains.  It  is  true,  that  such  a  person  is  badly 
paid ;  but  then  there  are  legal  imposts  on  the  li- 
tigants, to  say  nothing  of  his  own  chicane,  which 
give  him  a  direct  interest  in  fomenting  and  pro- 
tracting suits ;  and,  under  so  imperfect  a  system 
of  controul  as  every  where  prevails,  he  must  be 
a  marvellously  stupid  or  a  marvellously  honest 
Dorfrichter  who  cannot  drive  his  gains  up  to  a 
very  ample  recompence  for  his  talents.  The  same 
person  is  occasionally  judge  in  two  different  small 
districts.  It  sometimes  happens  that  it  is  neces- 
sary for  the  judge  of  the  one  to  notify  something 
that  has  happened,  the  escape  of  a  thief,  for  in- 
stance, to  the  judge  of  the  other ;  and  instances 
have  actually  occurred  of  the  same  person  in.  the 
one  capacity  writing  a  letter  to  himself  in  the 


372  GOTTI^GEN. 

other,  and  then  answering  his  own  letter,  not  to 
lose  the  fees  attached  to  the  performance  of  these 
duties.  The  consequence. is,  that  in  Gottingen 
one  half  of  the  students  are  gaining  a  sprinkling 
of  law,  and  out  of  it,  justice  and  the  country  are 
suffering  under  a  locust  tribe  of  Dogberry s. 

Gottingen  has  the  reputation  of  being  a  dear 
place,  and  the  more  prudent  of  its  preceptors  do 
not  wish  to  propagate  any  contrary  belief ;  for, 
like  all  its  sisters,  it  has  felt  the  burden  of  en- 
ticing a  host  of  poor  scholars  into  learned  courses. 
It  has  two  hundred  and  sixteen  freytiscli-stellen^ 
that  is,  it  has  funds  which  are  laid  out  in  feed- 
ing so  many  poor  students.  The  student  selects 
a  traiteur  who  supplies  him  with  his  food  at  a 
fixed  rate,  and  is  paid  by  the  university.  Many 
of  the  lower  sorts  of  cooks  depend  almost  entire- 
ly on  these  college  monies.  The  alms  is  not  al- 
ways well  bestowed  ;  niggardly  interest  some- 
times gains  it  in  preference  to  necessity.  An  in- 
stance was  mentioned  to  me  of  a  wealthy  Mecklen- 
burgher  being  so  mean  as  to  ask  this  pittance  for 
his  son,  and  so  unfortunate  as  to  obtain  it.  The 
young  man  himself  would  not  submit  to  the  un- 
necessary degradation,  transferred  his  privilege 


EXPENDITURE.  373 

of  eating  gratis  to  a  poor  comrade,  dined  himself 
at  the  table  d'hote  of  the  most  fashionable  inn, 
and  ran  in  debt. 

The  lowest  sum  I  ever  heard  mentioned  as 
sufficient  to  bring  a  young  man  respectably 
through  at  Gottingen  is  three  hundred  rix-dol- 
lars  yearly,  not  quite  L.  50,  but  assuredly  it  is 
too  low.  Michaelis,  even  in  the  last  century, 
said  four  hundred  ;  Meiners,  in  the  beginning  of 
the  present,  set  it  down  at  three  hundred ;  Pro- 
fessor Saalfeld,  who  has  brought  down  Flutter's 
work  to  1820,  fixes  on  three  hundred  and  fifty. 
It  is  certain  that  the  number  of  those  who  spend 
only  the  lowest  of  these  sums  is  much  smaller 
than  the  number  of  those  who  spend  the  highest. 
Taking  the  average  at  three  hundred  and  fifty, 
which  certainly  does  not  exceed  the  truth,  the 
university,  with  upwards  of  twelve  hundred  stu- 
dents, and  thirty-six  regular  teachers,  besides 
the  extraordinary  professors  and  the  doctores 
privatim  docentes,  annually  circulates  in  Gottin- 
gen, at  least,  seventy  thousand  pounds.  Con- 
siderably more  than  one-half  of  those  who  spend 
this  money  are  foreigners  to  Hanover;  and,  as 
they  are  generally  the  more  wealthy,  they  spend 


374  GOTTINGEN. 

a  considerably  greater  share  of  the  whole  sum 
than  the  part  merely  proportioned  to  their  num- 
bers. Thus,  the  university  brings  annually  into 
the  town  about  L.  40,000  from  foreign  coun- 
tries. The  mere  rent  of  rooms  let  to  the  students 
amounted,  for  the  winter  session  1820-1821, 
to  21,800  rix-dollars,  rather  more  than  L.  3300. 
The  professors  exercise  a  very  strict  controul 
over  all  the  inhabitants  who  follow  this  occupa- 
tion. Opposite  to  each  student's  name  in  the 
university  catalogue  stands  not  only  the  street, 
but  the  very  house  which  he  inhabits,  and  if  he 
remove,  it  must  be  immediately  notified  to  his 
academical  superiors.  In  the  whole  town  there 
were  a  thousand  and  ninety-six  rooms  to  let,  of 
which  six  remained  empty,  though  the  number 
of  students  was  twelve  hundred  and  fifty-five  ; 
for,  as  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  a  man,  who 
is  unable  to  pay  for  half  a  dinner,  can  conven- 
iently be  at  the  expence  of  a  whole  bed-chamber, 
it  frequently  happens  that  two  turn  in  together 
into  the  same  room. 

The  university  has  been  fortunate  in  suffering 
nothing  from  the  political  animosities  which  of 
late  years  have  harassed  so  many  public  teachers 


DISCIPLINE.  375 

in  Germany,  and  set  most  of  the  universities  in 
so  turbulent  a  light.  It  would  be  too  much  to 
say  that  her  students  escaped  the  infection  which 
made  the  silly,  hot-headed  Burschen  set  them- 
selves up  for  political  regenerators.  They  bore 
their  part  in  the  Wartburg  festival ;  they  dis- 
carded hair-cutters  and  well-made  coats  :  but  the 
spirit  evaporated  more  speedily  than  elsewhere, 
and  was  more  firmly  met  by  the  vigour  of  the 
senate,  and  the  prudence  of  the  government. 
The  latter,  though  it  has  very  properly  oppos- 
ed itself,  from  the  very  beginning,  to  the  irre- 
gularities of  the  students,  is  in  favour  both  with 
them  and  their  teachers.  While  some  other 
states  look  upon  their  universities  with  jealousy 
and  dislike,  Hanover  has  always  treated  what 
the  Duke  of  Cambridge  called,  "  the  fairest  pearl 
in  her  crown,"  with  confidence  and  liberality. 
It  has  never  pretended  to  find  proofs  of  an  or- 
ganized revolution  in  the  doctrines  of  the  teach- 
ers, or  the  occasional  turbulence  of  the  scholars. 
It  has  borne  with  the  one,  and  battled  against 
the  other,  but  has  never  used  them  as  tokens  of 
political  crime  to  justify  political  harshness.  The 
regulations  against  the  press  introduced  by  the 


376  GOTTINGEN. 

Congress  of  Carlsbad,  and  enacted  into  a  law  of 
the  Confederation  by  the  Diet,  have  introduced 
here,  as  in  all  the  seminaries,  a  censorship  from 
which  the  universities  had  hitherto  been  exempt- 
ed. But  in  Gottingen  the  power  thus  given  has 
not  been  used  ;  no  censorship,  I  was  assured, 
had  been  established.  Those  professors  whose 
departments  necessarily  draw  them  into  political 
discussion,  have  acted  much  more  sensibly  than 
their  brethren  of  Jena.  They  have  not  degen- 
erated into  mere  newspaper  writers,  nor  sullied 
their  academical  character,  by  mixing  them- 
selves up  in  the  angry  politics  of  the  day  with 
the  fury  of  partisans.  Sartorius,  the  Professor 
of  Statistics  and  Political  Economy,  sits  in  the 
States  for  the  town  of  Eimbeck. 

Gottingen  enjoys  the  reputation,  that  a  more 
sober  and  becoming  spirit  reigns  among  its  stu- 
dents than  is  to  be  found  in  any  of  its  rivals, 
and  that,  even  in  their  excesses,  they  show  a  more 
gentlemanly  spirit :  to  this  merit  every  Gottinger 
at  least  lays  claim.  In  the  external  peculiarities 
of  the  sect,  they  seem  to  be  much  on  a  level  with 
their  brethren.  I  heard  as  late  and  as  loud 
singing,  or  rather  vociferation,  resounding  on  the 


DISCIPLINE.  377 

streets  and  from  the  windows  of  Gottingen,  as 
in  Halle,  or  Heidelberg,  or  Jena.  They  are  as 
much  attached  to  the  fencing  school  and  the 
duel,  to  the  vivat  and  the  pereat ;  but  they  are 
not  so  fertile  in  contriving  ridiculous  expedients 
to  make  themselves  be  noticed.  The  Senate  has 
a  body  of  armed  police  under  its  own  command, 
to  keep  them  in  order;  but  the  students  have 
oftener  than  once  driven  these  academic  warriors 
from  the  field,  covered  with  more  wounds  than 
glory.  Landsmannschaften,  too,  are  said  to  be 
rooted  out,  and  Blumenbach  was  blessing  his 
stars  that  it  had  come  to  be  his  turn  to  be  Pro- 
rector  when  these  things  are  no  more ;  but  duels 
keep  their  place  ;  and,  considering  that  these  fra- 
ternities are  as  much  prohibited  every  where  as 
in  Gottingen,  and  yet  do  continue  to  exist  else- 
where, it  may  fairly  be  presumed  that  they  lurk 
and  act  in  Hanover  under  the  same  secrecy  which 
protects  them  in  Prussia  and  Saxony.  Disci- 
pline, likewise,  at  least  for  many  years,  has  been 
rigorously  enforced.  In  return  for  the  confi- 
dence and  liberality  with  which  the  government 
has  always  treated  the  professors,  it  has  justly 
insisted  on  the  firm  and  uncompromising  dis- 


378  GOTTINGEX. 

charge  of  their  duty.  That  spirit  of  truckling 
to  the  young  men,  so  disgusting  in  some  other 
universities,  has  disappeared. 

The  preference  which  Gottingen  may  reason- 
ably claim  in  point  of  general  manners  arises 
principally  from  the  circumstance,  that  a  greater 
proportion  of  its  students  are  young  men  of  rank, 
and  of  respectable  or  affluent  fortune,  than  else- 
where.    I  do  not  mean,  that  rank  and  wealth 
give  these  persons  purer  morals,  or  a  more  ac- 
commodating spirit  of  subordination,  than  their 
less  fortunate  fellows ;   but  the  dissipations  of 
the  former  are  not  so  gross  and  raw  in  their  ex- 
ternal expressions  as  similar  excesses  in  the  lower 
ranks  of  life,  and  it  is  only  of  their  external  con- 
duct that  there  is  here  any  question.     A  licen- 
tious peer  and  a  licentious  porter  are  generally 
very  different  characters.     Where  the  poorer 
class  of  students  forms  the  majority,  the  man- 
ners are  always  more  rude,  and  the  whole  tone 
of  society  is  more  vulgar,  than  where  their  num- 
bers are  comparatively  small.     To  this,  I  think, 
it  is  chiefly  owing  that  Gottingen,  without  per- 
haps any  well-founded  claim  to  better  conduct, 
or  greater  academical  industry,  than  some  other 


DISCIPLINE.  379 

universities,  certainly  does  impress  the  stranger 
with  the  idea  of  something  more  orderly  and 
gentlemanly.  The  very  appearanceof  the  town  aid  s 
this  impression,  for  Gottingen  is  one  of  the  most 
agreeable  and  cleanly-looking  towns  in  Germany. 
The  regularity  and  width  of  the  streets,  which 
possess  likewise  the  rare  merit  of  being  furnish- 
ed, for  the  most  part,  with  pavements,  and  the 
neat,  light,  airy  appearance  of  the  houses,  though 
they  make  no  pretensions  to  elegance,  is  some- 
thing very  different  from  Halle  or  Jena. 


380 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

HANOVER. 

.    Ein  warmes  immer  reges  Herz, 

Bei  hellem  Licht  ira  Kopfe ; 
Gesunde  Glieder  ohne  Scbmerz, 
Und  Heinrich's  Huhn  im  Topfe. 

The  Burechen. 

THE  greater  part  of  the  fifty  miles  between 
Gottingen  and  Hanover  still  presents  a  pleasant, 
varied,  and  well  cultivated  country,  consisting  of 
moderate  sized  plains,  bounded  by  wooded 
ridges  of  moderate  elevation.  Here,  too,  as  in 
Hesse,  a  great  quantity  of  land  is  in  forest,  which 
might  be  easily  converted  to  agricultural  pur- 
poses, were  it  not  that  the  forest  laws  prevent  the 
proprietor  from  either  clearing  it  away,  or  deriv- 
ing any  advantage  from  it  as  a  forest.  The  pea- 
santry have  the  right  of  pasturage  in  the  forest; 


FOREST  LAWS.  381 

if  cleared  away,  it  would  only  become  an  open 
common  pasture.  The  scarcity  of  fuel  all  over 
the  kingdom  argues  a  deficiency  of  wood;  and  it 
would  be  a  more  advisable  speculation,  regular- 
ly to  cut  and  renew  the  forest,  did  not  the  ffii- 
tungs-Recht,  the  right  of  pasturage,  present  a 
thousand  obstacles.  The  proprietor  must  not 
increase  the  number  of  his  trees,  for  he  dare  not 
encroach  on  the  extent  of  the  pasturage.  That 
it  may  not  be  inconvenient  for  the  cattle,  he  must 
plant,  if  he  plant  at  all,  at  distances  which  are 
ruinous  to  young  wood,  by  leaving  it  without 
shelter.  Then,  both  the  cattle  and  the  persons 
who  tend  them  are  sworn  enemies  of  young 
trees;  the  quadrupeds,  because  they  find  them 
to  be  good  eating,  and  the  bipeds,  because  they 
imagine,  that  to  destroy  them  is  to  advance  the 
public  weal  of  the  village,  by  augmenting  the 
pasturable  surface.  To  protect  them  from  the 
wind,  they  are  fastened  to  stakes;  to  defend  them 
against  cows  and  cowherds,  they  are  surrounded 
with  thorns;  immediately  the  herdsmen  carry  off 
the  thorns  and  stakes  as  excellent  fuel,  and  the 
cattle  attack  the  trees  as  excellent  food-  The 
proprietor  very  naturally  gives  up  a  business 


382  HANOVER. 

which  he  cannot  ply  with  profit,  neglects  his  fo- 
rest, and  the  scarcity  and  cost  of  fuel  is  rapidly 
increasing.  In  the  Estates  a  proposal  was  made, 
though  unsuccessfully,  to  exempt  forest-land 
from  the  land-tax,  on  the  ground  that  it  is  a  spe- 
cies of  property  which,  under  the  existing  laws, 
cannot  possibly  be  productive  to  the  owner. 

It  has  likewise  a  demoralizing  influence,  and 
produces  a  class  of  criminals  which  we  scarcely 
know,  wood-poachers.  In  many  districts  the 
price  of  fuel  is  so  high,  that  the  poor  cannot  af- 
ford to  purchase  it;  but  they  can  just  as  little 
endure  to  be  frozen,  or  to  eat  their  meat  un- 
dressed; they  plunder  the  forests,  and  justice  is 
compelled  to  connive,  in  some  measure,  at  this 
crime  of  necessity.  Holz-dieb,  or  wood-thief,  is 
a  term  as  expressive  of  daring,  recklessness,  and 
revenge,  as  poacher  is  with  us.  The  Jagers,  and 
other  servants  appointed  to  watch  the  forest,  are 
regarded  by  them  in  the  same  light  in  which 
game-keepers  are  by  poachers,  and,  if  they  value 
their  personal  safety,  they  must  discharge  their 
duty  with  great  lenity  or  carelessness.  When 
some  notable  piece  of  plundering  makes  it  neces- 
sary to  bestir  themselves,  the  Jagers  of  a  num- 


AVOOD  POACHERS. 

her  of  neighbouring  forests  occasionally  assem- 
ble as  if  for  a  chace ;  the  dogs  are  uncoupled, 
and  the  horns  sound,  but  the  wood-thieves  are 
the  game,  and  often  suffer  a  severe  chastisement. 
They,  again,  take  vengeance  in  their  own  way 
and  time  ;  there  have  been  examples  of  an  ob- 
noxious inspector,  or  keeper  of  a  wood,  falling  a 
sacrifice  to  the  murderous  enmity  of  such  men, 
years  after  he  had  brought,  or  attempted  to 
bring  them  to  punishment.  They  are  exactly 
our  own  poachers,  only  they  are  produced,  not 
by  idleness  or  a  love  of  amusement,  but  by  the 
impossibility  of  dispensing  with  one  of  the  first 
necessaries  of  life. 

These  pleasant  valleys  are  more  thickly  peo- 
pled than  the  northern  provinces  of  the  king- 
dom, which  contain  so  many  large  tracts  of  un- 
cultivated heath  and  uninhabited  sand.  The  po- 
pulation of  Calenberg,  Gottingen,  and  Gruben- 
hagen,  commonly  included  under  the  name  of 
the  southern  provinces,  exceeds  that  of  the 
northern  by  nearly  one  half,  in  proportion  to 
their  respective  superficial  extent.  *  Villages  and 

*  Before  the  addition  of  East  Friesland,  which  was 
ceded  to  Hanover  at  the  general  peace,  the  northern  pro- 


384  HANOVER. 

small  towns  are  plentifully  scattered ;  the  former 
are  apparently  more  substantial  and  convenient, 
and  the  latter  more  bustling  and  cheerful  than  in 
Hesse.  There  are  always,  indeed,  many  traces 
of  poverty,  and  much  of  what  we  would  reckon 
slovenliness,  and  want  of  skill ;  but  the  peasant- 
ry look  active  and  comfortable.  It  is  no  pecu- 
liar praise  to  Hanover,  that  its  peasantry  are  no 
longer  adscriptitii  glebae,  bound  to  live,  and  la- 
bour, and  d.ie  where  they  were  born,  however 
hard  the  conditions  might  be  on  which  their  fa- 
mily had  originally  acquired  the  hereditary  lease, 
as  it  may  be  called,  of  the  lands ;  for  in  what 
German  state  has  not  this  been  rooted  out  ?  The 
conditions  under  which  the  son  is  to  succeed  to 
his  father's  farm  may  be  personally  oppressive, 
as  well  as  impolitic,  in  regard  to  agriculture ; 


vinces  were  reckoned  at  464  geographical  square  miles, 
with  a  population  of  680,000 ;  the  three  southern  pro- 
vinces at  162  miles,  with  343,000  inhabitants,  exclusive 
of  the  40,000  poor  but  industrious  inhabitants  who  peo- 
ple the  valleys,  work  the  mines,  and  carry  on  the  iron 
manufactories  of  the  Harz.  Since  the  cessions  made  to 
Hanover  at  the  peace,  the  population  of  the  whole  king- 
dom is  given  in  round  numbers  at  1,320,000. 


THE  REPRESENTATION.  385 

but  he  is  no  longer  bound,  as  he  formerly  was, 
to  submit  to  them.  If  he  dislikes  them,  or  wishes 
to  seek  a  more  indulgent  landlord,  he  is  at  liber- 
ty to  pack  up  his  little  all,  and  settle  himself 
where  he  chooses.  It  is  true,  a  German  peasant 
will  not  readily  quit  the  soil  which  his  fathers 
have  laboured  for  ages;  he  will  submit  to  a  great 
deal,  indeed,  before  taking  this  desperate  step, 
which  is  to  him,  though  he  only  remove  perhaps 
into  the  next  parish,  as  painful  a  separation  as 
if  he  were  an  emigrant  leaving  his  country  for  a 
distant  corner  of  the  globe.  But  the  knowledge 
that  such  a  thing  can  be  done,  and  is  done,  has 
necessarily  brought  the  proprietors  to  feel  the 
necessity  of  avoiding  those  exactions,  and  miti- 
gating the  hard  feudal  terms  of  former  days, 
which  would  be  most  likely  to  make  it  happen. 

Hanover  depends  so  much  on  agriculture, 
that  the  towns,  numerous  as  they  are,  do  not 
contain  above  a  tenth  part  of  the  whole  popula- 
tion ;  yet,  in  the  Estates  convoked  in  1814,  they 
returned  nearly  one-third  of  the  members.  There 
is  nothing  popular  in  the  mode  of  election  ;  the 
member  is  chosen  by  the  magistrates,  and  the 
magistrates  are  either  self-elected,  or  named  by 

VOL.  i.  R 


386  HANOVER. 

the  Crown.  The  most  popular  form  I  heard  of 
is  that  of  Osnabruck,  whose  new  charter  gives 
the  citizens  some  share  in  filling  up  vacancies  in 
the  magistracy,  but  in  such  a  round  about  way, 
that  it  may  fairly  be  quoted  as  the  beau  ideal  of 
indirect  election.  The  magistracy  chooses  six- 
teen citizens,  "  good  and  true  men  ;"  these  six- 
teen choose  four ;  two  of  these  four,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  one  member  of  the  surviving  magistra- 
cy, choose  twelve ;  these  twelve  choose  three ;  . 
out  of  these  three  the  magistrates  choose  one ; 
this  one  must  be  confirmed  by  the  government, 
and  then  takes  his  seat  among  the  civic  authori- 
ties, the  picked  man  of  the  three  who  represent 
the  twelve,  who  represent  the  three,  who  repre- 
sent the  four,  who  represent  the  sixteen,  who  re- 
present the  magistracy,  who  represent  them- 
selves. Aye,  this  is  the  House  that  Jack  built ; 
yet  it  is  no  crazy,  ruined,  old  fashioned  edifice, 
but  a  spick  and  span  new  house  built  in  the 
year  1814.  * 

The  nearer  the  capital,  the  less  beauty.     On 


*  Verordnung,   die  Organisation  .  des  Magistrals  der 
Stadt  Osnabruck  betreffend;  31st  October  1814. 


THE  CITY.  387 

approaching  its  walls,  you  emerge  from  hill  and 
dale  into  that  wide,  dreary,  sandy  plain,  which 
spreads  itself  out  from  the  foot  of  the  Harz, 
nearly  to  the  shores  of  the  East  sea.     Hanover 
makes  no  show  in  the  distance;  it  even  looks 
more  dull  and  gloomy  than  it  really  turns  out 
to  be.     The  population  does  not  exceed  twenty 
thousand ;  but  the  appointment  of  a  royal  go- 
vernor has  brought  back  some  portion  of  prince- 
ly gaiety,  and  the  assembling  of  the  General 
States,  drawing  together  many  of  the  nobility 
from  the  different  provinces,  gives  its  streets  and 
shopkeepers,  for  a  season,  additional  activity. 
It  is  an  irregular  town,  neither  old  nor  new  fa- 
shioned ;  every  thing  is  marked  with  mediocri- 
ty.    The  formerly  Electoral  palace  is  a  huge, 
plain,    uninhabited   building,   and  that  of  the 
Duke  of  Cambridge  is  merely  the  best  house  in 
the  best  street.     The  manners  did  not  seem  to 
me  to  be  at  all  so  much  Anglicised  as  they  are 
sometimes  represented.      Except   the   English 
uniform  of  the  Guards,  the  English  arms  on 
the  public  offices,  and,  in  some  circles,  a  later 
dinner  hour  than  is  usual  in  Germany,  nothing 
reminds  one  that  he  is  in  a  capital  which  has  so 


388  HANOVER. 

i 

long  been  subject  to  the  King  of  England.  It 
is  only  within  these  few  years  that  Hanover  has 
come  into  contact  with  England  in  such  a  way, 
as  either  to  teach,  or  be  taught  any  thing ;  only 
the  higher  orders  are  exposed  to  this  influence, 
and  any  fragments  of  foreign  customs  which 
they  may  adopt,  will  not  easily  spread  into  the 
great  body  of  the  people,  or  produce  any  visible 
change  on  the  national  manners.  The  manners 
of  France  penetrated  much  more  deeply  into  the 
capitals  which  she  occupied,  because  French- 
men were  thrust  into  all  the  commanding  sta- 
tions of  society  ;  but  England  has  hitherto  act- 
ed towards  Hanover  with  justice  and  propriety. 
The  Hanoverians  cannot  complain  that  the  ad- 
ministration of  their  government  has  been  di- 
verted to  the  profit  of  foreigners.  Though 
there  naturally  are  English  officers  about  the 
governor,  all  the  public  offices  are  filled  by  na- 
tives. 

Our  language  and  literature  are  naturally 
much  cultivated  among  them,  but  scarcely  more 
so  than  at  Dresden  or  Weimar.  The  theatre, 
though  a  court  theatre,  is  the  only  one  in  Ger- 
many where  I  ever  found  recognized  our  con- 


THE  THEATRE. 

stitutional  privilege  of  making  a  noise.  The 
gods  of  Covent  Garden  or  Drury  Lane  could 
not  maintain  the  rights  of  theatres  with  greater 
turbulence,  than  their  brother  deities  of  Hano- 
ver ;  but,  as  they  assert  that  they  have  enjoyed 
the  franchise  ever  since  they  had  a  theatre,  we 
cannot  claim  the  merit  of  having  taught  them 
this  imposing  expression  of  public  sentiment. 
It  was  an  opera,  Gretry's  Coeur  de  Lion ;  the 
singing  was  mediocre,  and  the  acting  detestable ; 
all  the  men  were  awkward,  and  all  the  women 
ugly.  Great  part  of  the  pit  was  filled  with  mi- 
litary officers.  All  over  Germany,  it  is  reckon- 
ed essential  to  the  respectability  of  the  military 
character,  that  these  gentlemen  should  be  able 
to  frequent  the  theatre ;  but,  low  as  the  prices 
are,  (the  pit  at  Hanover  is  only  a  shilling,)  their 
pay  is  insufficient  to  afford  this  nightly  amuse- 
ment. The  government,  therefore,  keeps  back  a 
small  portion  of  their  pay,  gives  them  gratis 
admission  to  the  theatre,  and,  in  some  way  or 
other,  makes  up  the  difference  to  the  manager. 
Is  it  more  respectable  to  go  to  the  theatre  on 
charity,  than  to  stay  at  home  ?  If  it  is  supposed 
that  the  dignity  of  the  military  character  de- 


S90  HANOVER. 

pends,  in  public  estimation,  on  the  apparent  abi- 
lity of  the  military  to  spend  money,  is  it  elevat- 
ed by  an  arrangement  which  tells  every  body, 
that  they  are  less  able  to  spend  money  than 
their  fellow-citizens  ?  Even  a  strolling  party,  if 
there  be  military  in  the  place  of  its  temporary 
abode,  generally  sets  apart  a  portion  of  its  barn 
for  the  Herren  Officiere>  either  gratuitously,  or 
at  half  price.  It  looks  like  a  privilege. 

Hanover  had  put  on  all  the  gaiety  it  can  as- 
sume, for  it  was  Easter  Sunday,  and  Easter 
Sunday  is  a  fair.  The  lower  orders,  in  holiday 
finery,  were  swarming  through  the  walks  that 
run  along  the  ramparts,  decently  dressed,  de- 
cently behaved,  and  healthy  looking  people.  A 
large  plain,  outside  of  the  walls,  covered  with 
booths,  E  O  tables,  and  other  sources  of  Sunday 
amusement,  was  the  gathering  place.  On  one 
side,  a  great  many  parties  of  young  men  were 
playing  cricket  in  their  own  way.  They  had 
only  one  wicket ;  the  ball  was  not  bowled  along 
the  ground,  but  thrown  up  in  the  air,  and  struck, 
as  it  descended,  with  a  short  staff,  often  with  ad- 
mirable precision  and  dexterity.  In  another 
part,  the  press  was  thronging  round  the  canvas- 


AMUSEMENTS.  391 

booths,  where  cakes,  and  toys,  and  gin,  and  to- 
bacco, were  retailed.  Though  every  body  was 
very  merry,  and  many  very  noisy,  there  was  no 
quarrelling;  nay,  not  even  any  intoxication. 
Many  more  segars  than  drams  were  consumed. 
Next  afternoon,  the  whole  city  repaired  to 
Herrenhausen,  a  royal  residence  in  the  suburbs, 
where  the  royal  water-works  were  to  spout  their 
annual  tribute  to  the  Easter  festivities.  The 
long  and  ample  alley,  which  runs  from  the  city 
to  the  gardens  of  Herrenhausen,  is  magnificent ; 
the  gardens  themselves  are  straight  walks,  lined 
with  trees,  and  carpeted  with  turf,  but  the  sta- 
tues intended  to  adorn  them  are  execrable.  The 
expectant  thousands  were  lounging  patiently 
round  the  spacious  basin,  till  the  arrival  of  the 
governor  and  his  suite  should  authorize  the 
fountain  to  play  from  its  centre ;  yet,  when  it 
did  come,  they  did  not  seem  to  think  it  a  very 
fine  sight.  It  is  on  a  trifling  scale.  The  wind 
was  so  strong,  that  the  column  of  water,  instead 
of  throwing  itself  back  on  all  sides  in  an  ample 
and  graceful  curve,  the  great  source  of  beauty 
in  such  a  fountain,  was  carried  and  scattered  so 
far  to  leeward,  as  to  drench  the  unsuspecting 


HANOVER. 

citizens' who  had  ranged  themselves  on  that  side 
The  wetted  part  of  the  crowd  fled  in  consterna- 
tion ;  the  dry  part  shouted  in  malicious  triumph 
at  their  own  windward  prudence;  the  fountain 
played  on,  and  the  band  struck  up  "  God  Save 
the  King." 

At  the  entrance  of  the  public  walks  stands  the 
monument  of  Leibnitz,  a  bust  of  the  philosopher, 
on  an  elevated  pedestal,  within  a  small  Ionic 
temple.  Huge  bundles  of  his  manuscripts,  as 
well  as  the  armed  chair  in  which  he  died,  read- 
ing Barclay's  Argenis,  are  still  preserved  in  the 
library  where  he  studied,  or  rather  lived.  The 
greater  part  of  them  are  not  regularly  written 
out,  but  are  scraps  of  paper  of  all  sizes,  scrawled 
over  with  incoherent  notes.  To  keep  this  chaos 
in  order,  Leibnitz  made  use  of  a  singular  com- 
mon-place book.  It  is  an  array  of  shelves,  like 
a  book-case,  divided  by  vertical  partitions  into  a 
great  number  of  small  pigeon  holes.  Under 
each  hole  is  a  label,  with  the  name  of  the  subject 
to  which  it  was  appropriated,  frequently  with  the 
name  of  an  emperor,  or  any  other  person  whom 
the  philosopher  found  useful  as  making  an  epoch, 
or  important  enough  to  have  a  division  for  him- 


THE  LIBRARY. 

self.  When,  in  the  course  of  his  reading,  he 
came  upon  any  thing  worth  noticing,  he  jotted  it 
briefly  down  on  any  scrap  of  paper  that  happen- 
ed to  be  at  hand,  and  deposited  it  in  its  proper 
pigeon  hole.  One  of  the  librarians  assured  me, 
with  great  complacency,  that  Buonaparte's  ex- 
pedition to  Egypt  was  originally  an  idea  of  Leib- 
nitz ;  for,  among  his  manuscripts,  a  memorial 
addressed  to  Louis  XIV.  had  been  discovered, 
in  which  the  philosopher  represents  it  as  a  great 
and  good  work  to  deliver  from  Oriental  bar- 
barism the  country  which  had  been  the  mother 
of  all  arts  and  sciences,  and  the  ease  with  which 
its  liberation  might  be  effected  by  the  Most 
Christian  King. 

The  library  itself  is  small ;  the  government 
justly  thinks  that  it  does  enough  in  supporting 
the  library  of  Gbttingen ;  but  there  are  some  in- 
teresting typographical  rarities.  A  copy  of 
Tully's  Offices,  of  1465,  very  beautifully  and  re- 
gularly printed  on  vellum,  bears  testimony  to 
the  mystery  in  which  the  art  was  at  first  involv- 
ed ;  for  the  printer,  after  setting  down  his  name, 
"  Fust,"  (Faust,)  and  the  year,  at  the  end  of  the 
book,  adds,  that  it  was  executed  nee  penna,  nee 


394  HANOVER. 

aerea  penna,  sed  quadam  arte.  That  early  pro- 
duction of  the  graphic  art,  the  Biblium  Pau- 
perum,  is  a  misnomer  ;  for  it  is  no  Bible  at  all, 
properly  speaking,  and  could  be  of  no  use  to  the 
poor,  except  as  a  picture-book  to  amuse  their 
children,  for  the  text  is  Latin.  It  is  a  series  of 
wooden  cuts,  representing  the  principal  events  of 
the  sacred  writings.  The  cuts  occupy  the  upper 
half  of  every  page ;  below  is  the  explanation,  in 
rude,  rhymed,  Latin  verses.  lu  the  cut  which 
represents  our  first  parents  after  their  expulsion 
from  Paradise,  Adam  is  busily  delving,  and  Eve 
sits  beside  him,  spinning,  with  little  Cain  upon 
her  knee : 

When  Adam  delved,  and  Eve  span, 
Where  was  then  the  gentleman  ? 

The  superbly  illuminated  missal  is  said  to 
have  been  a  present  from  Charles  V.  to  our 
Henry  VIII. ;  if  so,  it  must  have  undergone 
strange  vicissitudes.  A  notification  in  English, 
signed  by  a  Mr  Wade,  is  affixed  to  it,  which 
states,  that  he  first  saw  the  manuscript  in  the 
possession  of  a  private  gentleman  in  France, 
about  the  beginning  of  the  last  century.  The 


PICTURES.  395 

proprietor  showed  it  to  him,  but  would  not  al- 
low him  to  touch  it ;  nay,  he  himself  turned  over 
the  leaves  only  with  a  pair  of  silver  tongs,  and, 
observing  Mr  Wade  smile,  remarked,  with  some 
warmth,  that  it  was  thus  that  his  ancestors  had  so 
long  preserved  the  matchless  manuscript  in  its 
present  splendour.  On  the  death  of  this  gentle- 
man, Mr  Wade  purchased  it  from  his  executors  ; 
from  him  it  came  into  the  possession  of  our 
royal  family,  who  deposited  it,  along  with  the 
silver  tongs,  in  the  library  of  Hanover. 

The  gardens  and  villa  of  the  late  Count  Wal- 
moden  are  now  royal  property  ;  but  the  collec- 
tion of  pictures  has  been  dispersed.  Those  that 
remain  give  no  good  idea  of  the  artists  whose 
names  they  bear.  The  Madonna  and  Child, 
said  to  be  by  Raphael,  the  Dying  Monk,  as- 
cribed to  Tintoretto,  and  the  Pope  adoring  the 
Virgin,  baptized  as  a  Guido,  have  nothing  in 
them,  to  be  sure,  inconsistent  with  the  earlier 
style  and  more  careless  efforts  of  these  masters ; 
but  neither  do  they  give  the  slightest  idea  of 
what  these  masters  could  do,  and  would  not  at- 
tract notice  were  it  not  for  the  names.  Christ 
parting  from  the  Disciples  at  Emmaus  is  a  design 


306 


HANOVEK. 


of  Annibal  Caracci,  full  of  the  simplicity,  and 
dignity,  and  boldness,  in  which  that  painter  fol- 
lowed so  close  on  Fra  Bartolomeo.  Few  pic- 
tures of  Rubens  exhibit  the  provoking  inequali- 
ties of  his  genius  so  strongly  as  one  which  re- 
presents the  Magdalene,  backed  by  a  host  of 
Saints.  She  is  kneeling,  in  tears,  before  the 
Virgin  and  Child.  The  colouring  is  in  many 
points  in  his  very  highest  style ;  the  figures  are 
in  his  very  worst,  not  only  homely,  but  absolute- 
ly vulgar  and  unpleasant.  The  Saints,  above 
all  St  Francis,  with  their  hard-favoured  coun- 
tenances, totally  devoid  of  all  interesting  and 
poetical  expression,  look  like  so  many  jail-birds. 
The  Magdalene  is  just  one  of  those  gross  masses 
of  human  flesh  which  he  has  so  often  painted ;  it 
is  well  that  her  hands  are  folded  upon  her  breast, 
so  as  partly  to  cover  it ;  for,  from  what  is  visi- 
ble, these  suspended  dugs,  if  displayed  in  full 
volume,  would  have  been  frightful.  The  Ma- 
donna, too,  is  a  homely  housewife,  beautifully 
painted ;  but  the  Holy  Infant  itself,  in  form,  ex- 
pression, and  colouring,  is  delicious, — all  grace, 
animation,  and  softness. 

The  Hanoverians  (if  a  passing  visitor  be  en- 


NATIONAL  CHARACTER.  397 

titled   to  form  an  opinion)  are  a  most   sober- 
minded,  plodding,  easily  contented  people.    Like 
all  their  brethren  of  the  north  of  Germany,  with- 
out possessing  less  kindness  of  heart,  they  have 
much  less  joviality,  less  of  the  good  fellow,  than 
the  Austrians,  and  are  not  so  genial  and  extra- 
vagant, even  in  their  amusements,  as  the  Bava- 
rian or  Wirtemburger.    Though  quite  as  indus- 
trious as  the  Saxons,  they  are  neither  so  lively, 
nor  so  apt.     Their  neighbours  of  Cassel  and 
Brunswick  have  the  reputation  of  being  some- 
what choleric  ;  but  to  this  charge  the  Hanove- 
rian is  in  no  degree  liable ;  there  is  more  danger 
of  his  becoming  a  drudge,  than  of  his  growing 
impatient.     Endowed  neither  with  great  acute- 
ness  of  perception  nor  quickness  of  feeling,  it  is 
long  before  he  can  be  brought  to  comprehend 
the  bearings  of  what  is  new  to  him,  and  it  is  dif- 
ficult to  rouse  him  to  ardour  in  its  pursuit.     If 
it  become  advisable  that  he  should  set  himself 
free  from  old   usages,   which  are,  in  fact,  his 
strongest  affections,  great  slowness  and  great  pa- 
tience are  necessary  to  untie  the  cords  with  which 
he  is  bound.    Though  every  other  person  should 
see  that  they  are  rotten,  and  that  the  man  has 


398  HANOVER. 

only  to  shake  himself  to  get  rid  of  them,  he  will 
not  move  a  limb  before  every  knot  has  been  re- 
gularly undone.  He  possesses,  in  a  high  degree, 
the  capacity  of  holding  on  in  any  given  line  of 
motion,  however  monotonous  and  inconvenient, 
and  is  the  last  man  in  Europe  who  will  start  out 
of  his  way  to  chase  butterflies.  If  this  confined 
inactivity  of  character  renders  him,  in  some  re- 
spects, a  less  pleasing  companion,  it  saves  him 
likewise  from  many  vices  and  many  extrava- 
gancies. If  he  be  somewhat  dull,  he  is  honest 
and  affectionate ;  if  his  views  be  very  limited, 
his  hands  are  unwearied.  He  is  much  too  sober 
minded  either  to  sink  into  frivolity,  or  rise  to 
enthusiasm ;  he  betrays  little  eagerness  for  infor- 
mation, for  he  sees  little  use  to  which  he  could 
apply  it ;  he  trusts  his  own  understanding  with 
the  extremest  caution,  for  he  is  little  accustom- 
ed to  ratiocination.  Gottingen  is  said  to  have 
had  a  most  beneficial  influence  on  the  culture  of 
the  nobility,  and  higher  ranks  of  the  citizens; 
nor  was  it  to  be  supposed,  that,  while  the  uni- 
versity was  scattering  abroad  so  much  good  seed 
over  the  other  states  of  Germany,  it  would  find 
thorny  ground  only  in  its  native  country. 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  399 

Though  a  strong  feeling  of  attachment  to  his 
hereditary  prince  is  common  to  every  German, 
in  none  is  it  more  deeply  rooted  than  in  the  Ha- 
noverian. It  is  the  most  inveterate  of  his  habits, 
from  which  it  would  give  him  infinite  pain  to 
tear  himself  loose.  It  is  not  an  opinion,  for  he 
seldom  thinks,  and  never  argues  about  what 
monarchs  ought  to  be  ;  though  it  may  be  affect- 
ed by  the  personal  qualities  of  the  ruler,  it  ex- 
ists independent  of  them ;  the  most  splendid 
could  scarcely  rouse  him  to  enthusiasm,  and  the 
most  degrading  must  descend  very  low,  indeed, 
in  abasement,  before  they  could  mislead  him  into 
hatred  or  contempt.  Even  the  long  absence  of 
their  native  princes  has,  in  no  degree,  diminish- 
ed their  affection  for  them  ;  their  love  of  the 
Guelphs  has,  in  this  respect,  survived  trials 
which  fidelity  to  a  mistress  would  hardly  have 
withstood.  Nor  is  it  undeserved.  Among:  its 

O 

own  people,  who  are  the  best  judges,  and  even 
among  the  writers  of  the  liberal  party,  who 
would  not  willingly  acknowledge  it  if  it  were  not 
true,  the  House  of  Hanover  enjoys  the  reputa- 
tion of  having  always  governed  with  an  honest 
regard  to  the  welfare  of  its  subjects,  and  the 


400  HANOVER. 

rights  of  the  estates,  such  as  they  were.  It  lias 
neither  rendered  itself  hateful  by  niggardliness 
and  private  oppression,  nor  burdensome  by  ex- 
travagance; the  liberality  of  its  conduct  has 
maintained  the  honour  of  the  country  among  its 
neighbours,  and,  at  the  Congress  of  Vienna,  Ha- 
nover alone  fought  the  battle  for  the  political 
amelioration  of  Germany.  If  Napoleon  wished 
gradually  to'win  on  the  good  will  of  his  German 
provinces,  and  found  his  domination  on  some- 
thing more  respectable  and  secure  than  mere 
brute  force,  why  did  he  so  industriously  insult 
their  feelings  and  irritate  their  prejudices?  In 
Hanover,  above  all,  the  partition  of  the  Electo- 
rate, to  throw  part  of  it  into  the  kingdom  of 
Westphalia,  was  a  deadly  sin  against  the  na- 
tional pride  of  the  people,  for  which,  in  their  es- 
timation, no  anathemas  against  aristocratic  ex- 
emptions could  atone.  The  return  of  their  na- 
tive sovereign  was,  to  them,  the  re-creation  of 
their  country,  which  Napoleon  had  blotted  out 
from  among  the  states  of  Germany.  When  I 
was  in  Hanover,  the  report  had  already  spread 
that  his  Majesty  intended  to  make  that  visit  to 
his  German  dominions  which  he  soon  afterwards 


THE   GOVERNMENT.  401 

executed.  The  people  were  manifestly  looking 
forward  to  the  event,  not  with  the  impatience  of 
a  Parisian  crowd  to  see  fine  sights,  for  no  peo- 
ple could  be  less  at  home  in  such  scenes  of  pa- 
rade than  the  Hanoverians,  but  with  the  hearty 
anxiety  of  one  who  Jongs  to  meet  an  old  friend. 
In  the  simplicity  of  their  hearts,  they  had  taken 
it  into  their  heads,  that  the  King  was  coming  to 
put  to  rights  any  little  public  matters  which  they 
had  some  indistinct  notion  were  not  as  they 
ought  to  be.  They  were  quite  sure,  they  said, 
that  if  they  sometimes  had  to  pay  more  money 
than  they  could  well  afford,  only  the  great  folks 
at  Hanover  were  to  blame  for  it ;  nor  had  they 
any  sort  of  doubt,  but  that  his  Majesty  would 
look  into  every  thing  with  his  own  eyes,  and 
right  what  required  righting  with  his  own  hands. 
This  feeling  is  universal;  the  government  is 
popular ;  even  the  liberal  pamphleteers  allow 
that  Hanover  has  no  reason  to  envy  any  other 
German  state. 

The  estates  of  the  kingdom  were  not  assembled; 
though  they  had  been  sitting,  they  admit  no 
witnesses  of  their  deliberations.  There  is  a  large 
dining-room,  with  three  or  four  rows  of  chairs 


402  HANOVER. 

arranged  amphitheatrically  in  front  of  a  throne 
from  which  the  governor  delivers  his  speeches, 
and  a  couple  of  handsome  parlours  for  the  two 
houses.  The  apartment  of  the  first  chamber  is 
the  largest  and  best  adorned,  for  it  is  a  room 
that  was  prepared  for  the  whole  estates  before 
their  separation  into  two  houses.  When  that 
separation  took  place,  the  peers  reserved  it  to 
themselves,  and  sent  the  commons  up  stairs  to 
the  drawing-room.  It  is  even  surrounded  with 
a  gallery  fitted  up  for  the  spectators  in  those  days 
of  good  intentions,  but  which  has  never  been 
used.  The  members  have  fewer  legislative  con- 
veniences than  with  us.  There  are  no  continu- 
ous benches  where  a  noble  lord  may  doze  over 
the  state  of  Europe ;  no  gallery  where  an  ho- 
nourable member  may  dream  a  reply  to  a  drowsy 
oration  ;  no  smoking  room  where  he  may  di- 
gest the  argument  without  having  heard  the 
speeches.  The  members  are  ranged  behind  each 
other  on  simple  chairs,  like  the  company  at  a 
Scotch  funeral,  and  much  less  luxuriously  than 
in  many  an  Italian  theatre.  When  the  house 
divides,  they  repair  into  an  adjoining  room, 
where  they  find  pen  and  ink,  and  a  number  of 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  403 

small  square  pieces  of  paper,  on  which  the  Aye 
or  No  is  to  be  written;  if  the  morsels  be  ex- 
hausted, there  are  scissars  to  cut  new  ones.  The 
array  of  scissars  is  magnificent ;  half  a  dozen 
pairs,  long,  sharp,  and  glittering,  adorn  the  table 
of  each  house,  instead  of  a  sceptre.  One  of  their 
regulations  might  be  advantageously  transferred 
to  various  other  assemblies,  viz.,  that  when  a 
member  appears  to  be  wearying  out  the  house  by 
speaking  at  too  great  length,  the  president  shall 
put  him  in  mind,  dass  er  sicli  ~kurzjusse,  that 
"  brevity  is  the  soul  of  wit." 

Both  chambers  are  elective,  for  even  the  first 
consists  only  of  deputies  chosen  by  the  nobility 
of  the  different  provinces,  with  the  exception  of 
a  few  members  who  sit  in  virtue  of  their  rank  as 
titular  dignified  clergy,  that  is,  as  possessing 
what  was  once  church  property.  The  chamber 
of  the  aristocracy  ought  rather  to  be  called  the 
chamber  of  freeholders,  for  it  is  in  fact  the  re- 
presentation of  the  landed  interest,  as  distin- 
guished from  the  population  and  the  manufactur- 
ing interest  of  the  towns.  Though  every  person 
who  has  a  patent  of  nobility,  and  a  Rittergut, 
or  estate  noble,  has  a  right  to  vote,  the  former  is 


404 


HANOVER. 


not  essential  to  the  franchise.  It  has  long  been 
consuetudinary  law  in  Hanover,  that  every 
proprietor  of  a  Rittergut,  that  is,  every  free- 
holder, though  he  should  not  have  the  honours 
and  privileges  of  nobility  in  his  person,  is  Land- 
tagsfdhig,  entitled,  that  is,  to  appear  personally 
in  the  estates,  while  that  form  of  assembly  pre- 
vailed, and  now  to  vote  in  the  election  of  the  de- 
puties who  represent  his  province.  In  some 
parts  of  the  kingdom,  a  great  quantity  of  allo- 
dial property  has  sprung  up.  It  is  chiefly  found 
in  what  are  called  the  Marschlanden,  formerly 
morasses,  stretching  along  the  banks  of  the 
Weser  and  the  Elbe,  where  inundations  had  de- 
posited the  rudiments  of  a  fertile  soil,  unclaimed 
either  by  the  Crown  or  the  feudal  nobility  while 
it  remained  in  its  original  barrenness ;  drain- 
ed of  its  waters,  and  defended,  against  the 
stream,  by  a  peasantry  that  settled  among  its 
insalubrious  damps  from  the  same  love  of  secu- 
rity which  created  the  fields  of  Holland,  and 
founded  a  city  of  princes  on  the  waves  of  the 
Adriatic;  gradually  brought,  by  the  industry  of 
centuries,  to  be  the  most  fertile  district  of  the 
kingdom ;  and  now  swarming  with  an  affluent 


THE  GOVERNMENT.  405 

and  independent  rustic  population.  All  these 
proprietors  have  not  only  been  admitted  to  the 
elective  franchise,  but,  instead  of  being  thrown 
in  with  the  neble  proprietors  around  them,  they 
elect  their  own  members. 

The  chambers  are  very  doubtful  about  the 
extent  of  their  powers.     It  is  certain  that  they 
can  do  nothing  without  the  consent  of  the  execu- 
tive, in  other  words,  that  the  veto  of  the  crown 
is  absolute,  but  it  is  much  less  certain  whether 
the  crown  is  bound  to  yield  when  they  declare 
against  it.     Some  proprietors  of  estates  not  no- 
ble, petitioned  the  House  to  be  admitted  to  the 
representation  ;    the  House   surely  mistook  its 
duty  in  voting,  that  this  was  not  a  matter  fit  for 
deliberation  before  them,  but  appertained  solely 
to  the  executive.     The  government,  however,  is 
allowed,  on  all  hands,  to  have  acted  with  the  ut- 
most liberality,  and  the  most  sincere  wish  to  do 
good.      In  an  edict  organizing  the  militia,  it  pro- 
hibited  any   serviceable   male   from  fixing  his 
domicile  in  a  foreign  country,  without  its  per- 
mission ;  the  Commons  immediately  quarrelled 
this,  as  contrary  to  the  liberty  of  the  subject,  and 
the  natural  right  of  every  man  to  live  where  he 


406 


HANOVER. 


chooses ;  and  the  ministry  yielded  the  point.  It 
firmly  refused  to  re-establish  the  nobility  in  the 
old  exemptions  from  taxation  and  military  ser- 
vice, which  Napoleon  had  first  shaken.  The  nobil- 
ity made  an  obstinate  struggle  to  retain  their  ex- 
emption from  the  land-tax,  but  in  vain,  though 
the  majority  of  the  estates  belonged  to  their  own 
class  ;  for  there  were  many  of  them  to  whom  the 
frowns  of  the  court  were  more  formidable  than 
the  pressure  of  a  tax.  Resisting,  likewise,  their 
claims  to  monopolize  all  the  lucrative  and  influ- 
ential offices  of  the  state,  the  government  has  em- 
ployed commoners  of  talent,  wherever  it  could 
find  them,  both  in  the  civil  administration  and  in 
the  army.  There  is  no  German  court  where 
ability  and  honesty,  to  whatever  rank  they  may 
belong,  are  allowed  fairer  play. 

The  most  imprudent  thing  which  the  Estates 
have  done  was  wrapping  up  their  proceedings 
in  such  impenetrable  secrecy.  By  a  majority  of 
two  votes,  they  excluded  the  public  from  being 
present  at  their  deliberations.  Then,  although 
they  ordered  an  epitome  of  their  journals,  con- 
taining important  reports  made  by  committees, 
propositions  submitted  to  the  Chamber,  and  its 


THE  PRESS.  407 

final  decision  upon  them,  to  be  regularly  print- 
ed, this  compend  was  intended  only  for  the  mem- 
bers themselves,  and  was  anxiously  kept  back 
from  indiscriminate  publication.  The  conse- 
quence is,  that  the  great  body  of  the  citizens 
take  no  interest  in  proceedings  of  which  they 
know  nothing.  The  leading  men  of  the  minis- 
try, and  the  Governor  himself,  are  believed  to 
be  favourable  to  publicity ;  and  the  example  of 
Weimar  shows,  that,  even  under  a  much  more 
popular  system  of  representation  than  is  yet  es- 
tablished in  Hanover,  deputies  may  cling  to  se- 
crecy, while  the  government  recommends  pub- 
licity. Professor  Luden  of  Jena,  who  is  him- 
self a  Hanoverian  by  birth,  published,  in  1817, 
a  history  and  review  of  the  proceedings  of  the 
Estates,  from  their  first  meeting  after  the  expul- 
sion of  the  French  down  to  that  year.*  It  is  a 
sensible,  and,  in  no  point  of  view,  a  reprehensi- 
ble book :  though  it  sometimes  questions  the 
propriety  of  the  decisions  of  the  Estates,  both 


*  Das  Konigreich  Hanover,  nach  seinen  offentlichen 
Verhaltnissen. 


408  HANOVER. 

they  and  the  government  are  treated,  not  only 
with  respect,  but  with  eulogy.  Y"et  it  seems  to 
have  been  proscribed,  on  no  other  imaginable 
ground,  than  because  it  discusses  the  discussions 
of  the  Chamber.  At  least,  no  bookseller  in  Ha- 
nover would  say  that  he  had  it ;  and  I  procured 
it  only  by  the  politeness  of  a  Privy  Councillor 
who  allowed  me  to  make  use  of  his  name.  Thus 
there  seems  to  be  a  possibility  of  suppressing, 
without  incurring  the  odium  of  prohibiting. 

It  has  long  been  a  popular  belief  in  England 
that  Hanover  is  mischievous  to  us ;  that  it  is  a 
trifling  patrimonial  appendage  of  our  monarchs 
which  draws  us  unnecessarily  into  expensive 
continental  quarrels.  However,  according  to  a 
common  phrase,  there  is  no  love  lost  between  us 
and  the  Hanoverians.  They  are  in  no  degree 
flattered  by  their  king  wearing  the  crown  of 
England;  if  it  gives  their  cabinet  political  weight, 
they  feel  that  they  shine  in  borrowed  light. 
The  well  educated  classes  laugh  at  the  English- 
man who  retails  the  assertion,  that  Hanover  does 
Britain  mischief :  "  It  is  we,"  say  they,  "  who 
"  suffer.  When  the  King  of  Hanover  is  of- 


CONNECTION  WITH  ENGLAND.  409 

"  fended,  the  King  of  England  is  not  bound  to 
"  resent  his  injuries ;  but  when  the  King  of 
"  England  gets  into  a  continental  quarrel,  Ha- 
'*  nover,  with  no  earthly  interest  in  the  dispute, 
"  is  the  first  victim  of  the  rupture." 


END  OF  VOLUME  FIRST. 


.  EDINBURGH: 

PRINTED  BY  JOHN   STARK. 


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